Dark Labyrinth
by Ms. Audrey G
Summary: AU. The labyrinth was a mystical place the gods created to punish those who disobeyed. Yet, in the years that past, there are rumors of a prosperous city ruled by a dark king. No one knows what lies inside the labyrinth but all that would change as Serena, the wife of the dark king, is forced to travel the maze, and be tested on how far she could remain pure among the corrupted.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi. I am merely using the characters for my literature work, which will not be sold in any way to gain profit.

**Warning (Please note that most of what I mention might never occur in the story)**: Language, a brief mention of rape, sexual content (brief). Dark Darien. Violence.

I give credit to my (ex) **Beta-Reader, Starling Sinclair. **She helped me before with my writing in the past. Even though, I've changed in my writing style, I still credit her for helping me when so many others did not respond to me. I thank her for the time-even if she helped with only two chapters.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

_Welcome to Hell_

Serena had always imagined the world like a fairytale. It was mostly her brother's fault for encouraging her to believe in common tales of princes and princesses living a happily ever after. Samuel—or Sammy as she often called him in affection—had created a world that no seven-year-old wished to escape from.

It was like paradise, except most of the paradise was played out in the back of her cottage home. How her mother hated when she ran in between the linens and disrupting the workers from doing their daily chores. It was not her fault that she got caught up in her imagination and ignored her mother's warning.

Behind her, Sammy had hopped over the baskets of clean linen, with his forefingers placed at the side of his head. She remembered her mother shouting at him to play elsewhere, but like his little sister, he was too caught up in the fairytale that he was telling to listen to her.

Serena had slipped past the fences and ran up a hill, to where a maple tree laid, its branches filled with leaves. Her older brother had followed behind her, kicking the ground like a wild animal. She had little time to climb up the tree. Lifting her weight up, she stood on a branch, with her wooden sword out, pointing at the beast.

Sammy had stopped from playing his role and watched her. Coming closer to where she stood, he had lowered his arms and played the role he knew best. "Come down from there, Serena. You'll get hurt."

"As if you can fool me, foul beast!" She had moved her feet a little to swipe her blade to a side. "I will not fall for your tricks!" Alas, she had lost her balance and slipped forward. She had expected to feel the solid ground in a second; instead she was caught in between her brother's arms and chest.

Serena had looked up in awe, no longer seeing her brother as a beast but more as her prince. Well, she could not deny, that Sammy had always been her prince.

Sammy had placed her down on the tuft grass, inspecting any injuries. When he had found none, he took in her dirty appearance. There was mud smudge on her cheeks; her dress had patches of brown and green; and her black shoes held grime around the edges of her feet. Her blonde hair was held back in a tight bun, but a few tendrils had managed to escape and dangle around her face.

Their mother would be furious. In fact, she was, as Serena recalled after.

As soon as her brother had calm down, she had sat on the ground, plucking the grass from the soil of the earth, and had begun to contemplate. It had bothered her back then of the creatures that took the princesses away. The fairytale, as Serena remembered in her dark chamber, was a common tale told among the lands.

Sammy had heard it from his visit to Cornelia. It began with a princess falling in love with a prince. But the princess was trapped in a treacherous labyrinth of where wild beasts lurked in the dark. It was a tale of overcoming fears, a tale of bravery, but it was mostly a tale of love. For in the end, the prince saved the princess and lived in peace.

But it was simply a tale.

None of what Cornelia had said about the labyrinth had been true.

Still she was seven-years-old, unable to comprehend the evil that shook her world. She had asked, "Why do the beasts protect the labyrinth?"

And Sammy had responded, "To keep others out."

"Why?"

As a seven-year-old, she was persistent.

"Because the beasts protect a prosperous land, a land known to many as Elysium. But I doubt it's prosperous."

"Why do you say that?"

He had looked at her, trying to explain what he meant. Instead, he had taken the easy way out, when he choose to lie to her, and say, "It's just a tale, Serena. There is no such place as Elysium."

If only her brother had told her instead of sheltering her from the world how real Elysium was.

At that moment her memories came to a rest. She distinctively heard footsteps approaching. By her bedroom door, voices, which she had come to recognize, were heard behind the door.

The King had arrived with his advisor no less.

She scanned the closet that she was in, hoping that the expensive dresses, hanging on a wire, would shield her from being seen. In front of her, a chest filled with garments, became a barrier between the door and the wall.

It was pathetic. She knew she would get caught in the end. It's not that her hiding spot was hard to detect. Still she wanted her privacy, a chance to face reality. But Serena came to realize that reality would never sink in.

The tension suffocated her with suspense. Instead of smelling the strong scent of red roses in the air, she could smell the perfume lingering in her dresses. She swallowed her fear and prepared herself from the king.

Or better yet the dark king that ruled Elysium; or as many referred him as her husband.

And although she was in Elysium she was not at exactly at their home. He had brought her to the lost kingdom—a second castle placed in the center of the labyrinth—for a reason; a reason that she hardly knew of. But it did not matter to her. Whether she was here or over there, the location held no meaning to her.

Serena trembled when the door opened. Against the cool tiles, her husband ambled toward the curtains and swept them opened. Light showered the room and colored away the dark atmosphere.

All this she could see through the crack of the closet doors. Reduced to her knees, she moved her head and forced her eyes to follow his movement. She caught a glimpse of his dark clothing. He then turned his chest toward her direction, noticing the ruby necklace chained around his neck.

"Must we start our mornings this way?"

He carried himself with a soft-spoken voice. But she was no fool. Even with a solicitous tone, he held a sharp tongue.

Even his appearance seemed innocent.

With black, short hair, it framed his cheeks, giving her husband a boyish appearance. His bangs parted to a side, sweeping across his forehead. His blue eyes, turning dark under the sunlight, were quite beautiful against his pale complexion and stark lips.

She stopped from thinking of his handsome appearance and moved her back to the wall.

He headed toward the tub and slammed the doors behind him when he did not find her there. He then approached the massive bed, fitting for royalty, and lowered himself on his knee. Serena swore when he turned his attention to the closet.

"Hiding in a closet?" He began his stride toward her. "I thought better of you."

She held in her breath and watched as he opened the closet doors. The dresses were pushed apart. She was found, but it did not matter. She had enough time to bask in her privacy and face reality.

Looking up, she met his eye, and took in his handsome face. He moved the chest to a side, the barrier she had now gone. He then gave her a wicked smile and cupped her chin when she rose on her feet.

"Good morning. How was your night, love?"

_ Love_—how she hated the endearment. He carelessly used it to tease her.

After all, people do not do this when they are in love. Then again, she was lucky enough to have two parents in love with each other than having two parents who simply married because their social status mandated it.

He wiped his thumb across her bottom lip.

No matter how much she stared at him, she still could not believe her luck. Middle class, and married in two days, Serena never thought her prince would be replaced with a cold king.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_The Games We Play  
><em>

The tension was absolving.

Serena held her composure, no longer frighten of the situation. Although there was always a part of her that still was afraid of him.

Darien had released her, and moved his hand to pick out a dress. It was garishly white, speckled with golden beads around the midriff. He weighed the garment in his hand. It appeared to weigh as light as a feather, perfectly suited for indoors.

"This one will do."

The neckline was round; the straps thin. It split in the middle, below the waist, as a curtain; and it will most likely flow and show her legs. In all honesty, she hated the dress. It revealed too much skin.

"What do you think, Serena?"

She replied, "It's nice."

Darien leaned forward and pecked her on the cheek. Twirling on his heel, he moved his feet toward the bed and laid the dress on top. He then turned and beckoned her with a finger.

She felt her joints lock together when she moved.

"We don't have time to lose."

He waited for her to begin. She moved her hands automatically and pulled her chemise over her head. A chill ran down her spine. Her bare breasts were exposed to the cool air. The only thing she wore was her undergarment.

She met his eye and noticed his lustful expression. _One of these days_, thought Serena with a deep conviction, _I'll escape and never see you again_. For now, she stood in front of his scrutinizing eyes, and moved closer to the bed, trapping him in between.

He placed a hand on her hip and lowered his head, lips touching flesh. He kissed down between her breasts and took in a nipple with his teeth. She hissed lightly and stared toward the door, waiting for a maid to knock and distract him.

It never happened.

He moved his lips toward the other.

Serena touched his hair. "You should stop." She felt breathless, overcome by his delight. "Did you not say we should not waste time?"

He threw his head back a little, amused at her hurry. "That I did." His lips brushed past her shoulder and moved across her cheek to her ear. "But we can always delay breakfast to enjoy ourselves for the moment."

Nothing from her side was said.

He felt victorious at her lack of response. Kissing her cheek, he stood up straight.

"You can have me if you want," he offered.

Serena pushed him to a side and grabbed the dress. With it on, she felt protected from his lustful eyes. He was waiting for her response. She always responded when he messed with her mind; instead, she remained silent and moved toward the vanity mirror.

Sitting in front of it, she saw his reflection. He walked toward her and placed his hand on her shoulders. Then he plucked a necklace, a heart-shaped diamond, from her jewelry box and strapped it around her neck.

He whispered in her ear, "It suits you."

Serena did not heed him. Instead, she glided her attention toward the door when two knocks were heard. He composed himself and ordered the maids to enter. The maids came in quickly and bowed their head in respect to their king.

"Do something with this." He lifted a wisp of her hair, letting it fall against her back when he moved his fingers. "Then send her to the dining hall."

"As you wish, my king," one of the maids, a brunette, with her hair tied in the bun, said. She moved to a side when Darien crossed her path and exited. Catching her attention in the vanity mirror, Serena watched her approach, with another brunette behind her.

Her attire was simple, common for maids to wear. The white apron was tied around her blue dress; the sheer fabric, attached to the neckline of the dress, covered her shoulders and neck. She stood behind her and toyed with her hair when permission was asked and granted.

The chambermaid, Lucy, began to fix the bed.

"What do you want to do with your hair today, my lady?"

"It doesn't matter.

The maid—or Sofia, as Serena remembered—stiffened before she resumed threading her fingers through her hair. Sofia was her companion, coming at her request no matter the hour of the day. She was a nice woman, simple to look at, but Serena did not trust her, no matter how caring she seemed.

"A braid will go along nicely with your dress," Sofia suggested.

Sofia grabbed her brush and removed the knots in her hair. Separating her hair into three sections, she interweaved her hair together into one. She then said in a solicitous tone, "How was your night, my lady?"

"Terrible. I dreamt of death again."

She thought about the dream that plagued her last night. In it, she dreamt of her family dying. Her mother and father would be the first one to go. While Sammy was always the last one to die, and through the lens she saw, his death was horrific to witness. And no matter how much she screamed, his executioner would not stop, not until Sammy took his last breath.

Then she would crumble on the floor in the middle of the throne room. And behind her, sitting on his throne, would be her husband, her king, Darien.

He would be dashed with a red cape over his leg; the white-spotted fur around his neck blending with his black attire—a silk tunic, slit to the middle of his chest, and black breaches, with his round-pointed boots. And then strapped around his neck would be his favorite necklace, the red-ruby shining with promises of a cruel future.

He then would smile, blue-eyes filled with mirth at her broken state.

And at that moment, she would wake up, with a sweat around her brow. She had told Sofia of her dreams but she had offered little support. Perhaps she should speak to Darien and ask to see her family. It would ease her mind if she did.

Serena returned to the present when Sofia addressed, "Pray to the god of dreams to take it away."

Serena chuckled. "The god of dreams will not help me."

Sofia gave her a faint smile and offered nothing in return.

Tying a strap around her braid, Sofia moved back and lowered her head. Serena pushed her chair and glided across the room toward the high window. She peered out the window, taking in the massive maze.

Beyond that, she imagined her home, sitting near a hill. Her mother would be pulling the clothes from the clothesline with their housemaid, Sophie, by her side. As for her father, he would be discussing with his older brother about the virtue of a warrior, and then waved his son goodbye when he returned to Cornelia, his new home.

It would be an ordinary day.

Then she realized her home was no more. Burned to the ground, Darien wanted their existence to be forgotten. He wanted no one to know about the little family resting near a hill. Her family was moved to the heart of Elysium instead. She, however, followed wherever her husband went.

Now, she was stuck in the lost kingdom, never knowing when she'll see her family again.

Her thoughts came to halt when a hummingbird tapped the window. She moved toward the small bird, tracing its figure with a finger. It tapped against the glass once more, gaining the immediate attention of Sofia.

"A hummingbird… It means good fortune is on your side, my lady."

Serena really wished to believe that.

xx

Serena entered the dining hall and stood in front of the long table. At the end of the table, her husband sat, twirling a cup in his hand. He appeared bored. It surprised her that he was not kept busy with the war going on. But then again she knew that Darien would win.

It was a feeling in her heart that confirmed her assumptions, even though she prayed it wasn't true.

Sofia cleared her throat to gain the king's attention.

"Forgive me, my king. The queen is ready to dine with you."

Darien looked up and beckoned his wife forward. He sat straighter in his seat and watched as the butler pulled out her chair for her to sit. She took the seat and looked at the food displayed in front of her. There were all sorts of poultry, vegetables, and fruits that she could not make up her mind of what to choose.

The butler came to her side and placed a plate in front of her. And carefully, he picked out a meal, that she will most likely enjoy, and poured a cup of wine into her cup. It was too early for a drink but at the moment Serena gladly took it.

"Leave us," her husband ordered.

Sofia and the butler bowed their heads and left the room.

Serena drew in a breath and began eating.

Darien watched her curiously. She looked up from her plate of food and caught his eye. He smiled and took in another sip of his cup.

"I was wondering," Serena began doubtfully, and then took a moment to pause, "if there is a chance that I'm able to visit my parents."

"I don't think so."

Darien hardly thought about it, but Serena refused to give up so easily.

"I want to know how they are doing."

He ignored her and instead said, "How's the meal? Is it to your liking?"

She looked at him straight in the face.

"It is fine," she gritted.

He leaned in his seat, twirling the wine cup in his hands.

"About my family," she began again, "I really want to see them."

Darien settled into his chair comfortably, throwing one leg over the other. He appeared indifferent to what she had said; he most likely was. He then placed the cup on the table, no longer interested in the sweet taste of red wine. Instead he focused all of his energy on frustrating Serena when his next choice of words sparked hatred in her eyes.

"Does it hurt when I ignore your question?"

She glanced toward her plate of food. It was silent between them for a moment.

Darien took the pleasure to state, "You're angry. What will you do now?"

No longer restraining herself, she turned to him in a flash, annoyed by his cold character. "I will demand to see my family that is what I will do!"

"As if I'll allow that."

Darien lifted his wine cup to his lips and savored the taste with delight. In his childish way, he played with her mind, anything for a chance to stir a reaction. It was his favorite pastime like chess, except he moved the pieces to his delight.

A hideous display of rage swept across her features.

"As if you will allow that!" she screeched. "I have every right to see my family!"

He sat back in his chair, slightly amused of the hatred in her tone.

"You do, but you belong here, with me," he said.

"I don't belong here!" she barked at him.

Darien pushed back his seat and moved behind her. He rubbed his hands on her shoulders, gliding his fingers over the fabric, and then stopping at the base of her neck. Tense, and uncomfortable, she felt his breath near her ear.

"Don't touch me," she warned.

He nipped her ear lightly with his teeth, ignoring her.

"How dare you keep my family away from me! You're cruel!"

Serena pulled her head away from his lips, not wanting to be touched by him.

He calmly stated, "So I'm cruel. What else is new?"

He then moved away from her chair, allowing her the chance to escape toward the door. Serena stopped, and then stood vaguely for several seconds unsure of what to do when he ordered her to return to him. It was an effort to turn around. But she faced him and refused him, just as he did to her.

Darien was not angry by her choice. In fact, he was amused and stalked toward her, slowly.

"I'm not hungry. I wish to return to my room."

He flashed a wicked smile. "How about a fuck to go along with your request?"

He pinned her against the door. There was no chance to escape. Her hands were flat against the door, surrendering to his dominant physique. He won this round. The next would be hers.

"You are a monster!"

He leaned forward, with an arm resting above her head.

"True, but you are married to this monster, and as such, you will listen to what I say."

Serena simply looked at him in the eye, feeling a dread rise inside of her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

_Hidden Secrets_

Serena felt paralyzed; the dreadful possession of helplessness had taken over her. By a few feet, Darien was tall against her small stature. His dark blue-eyes carried conceit but held a high amount of lust seen. He gripped her chin and lowered his lips, barely touching her own.

He was teasing her.

She knew that and did not stop him.

He casually pecked her lips.

She instinctively spread her lips apart.

He took the invitation and slid his tongue into her mouth, ravishing her lips in a brutal kiss—until she was breathless, overcome by his passion. Her legs felt weak, unable to withstand the weight of his growing desire.

It was a simple game of lust and take. She was a woman of twenty-three and married late. Sex fascinated her, and to be able to share it with one man pleased her. It was the one thing she had come to love between them. And she could see it in his dark eyes that he loved the passion they shared in bed, the only common thing they had.

Like a king, Darien could have his concubines. But Darien was different. He wanted nothing to do with his kind in general. In fact, he could care less about the opposite sex—until he met Serena, that is. There was something about her that caught his attention immediately.

Darien pulled away when he heard Sofia call his attention.

"Forgive me, your majesty. Lady Raye and Lady Mina have arrived."

Darien took in a deep breath and unwillingly slid away from his wife.

"I think we're done here," he said in a low, pleasant voice.

His musk fled her senses and enthralled her to seek it. She began to walk toward him, and then stopped, remembering her composure. Darien's dark eyes regarded her attentively.

Arousal clouded her mind and promised limbs tangled in sweat; stolen kisses guaranteed; and foreplay added to the list. It would appease her for the moment; however, she could not pursue him for that purpose.

It was wrong. It was not her. He had feelings. She had to respect that.

As she had done countless times before, and will continue to do, she pushed away her sexual desire, and walked toward the maid. She smiled when she caught her bashful stare.

The doors to the dining hall gave a faint creak. It sighed back into place with a soft click. Sofia led the way down the aisle; the clatter of their shoes tapped against the marble. The sun poured from her right, illuminating the aisle bright.

At the next turn, she entered a different aisle, the same like the rest, aside from the perfect view of the labyrinth. She walked past the stairs, and moved across the grotesque painting of a man impaled by a spear, as the heavens parted open to Zeus's thunderous rage. Black hands—the souls of the underworld—rested around the man's stomach, pulling him to his fate.

She will never understand Darien's fascination with the painting. It was as if that painting meant something to him, as she would catch him staring at it for hours once in a while.

Her thoughts came to a halt when Sofia took a sharp turn to the left. She quickened her pace and followed her toward the parlour. The French doors were spotted at the corner of her eye. Sofia opened them and bowed her head toward the women in the room, announcing the queen.

Serena observed the room.

The walls carried a patterned velvet. A yellow-crisscross sofa and armchair sat on a rug, with a dark lacquer table in the middle. Two chairs were set apart, each next to a window. And a plant in a blue vase sat next to the wall on top of a high table; another chair was seen next to it.

Two large windows, with yellow drapes, looked over the labyrinth. How she loathed the sight of the maze. It was seen in every window. Nothing could block the massive maze that circled around the castle as protection.

Giving life to the stark room, two women sat—one on the armchair, the other on the sofa—and closed their fans. They stood up and bowed their heads. Serena was still not used to being called the queen.

She settled into the sofa and then examined the women she regarded as companions.

Lady Raye, with her amethyst eyes, had her hair loose, falling flat against her back. Her presence screamed of hostility, sending her a vibe of terror. With a tight line of red lips—the upper lip like a bow, voluminous and alluring, as the bottom quivered, earning a favorable image of perfect lips dying to be kissed—she was beautiful, clad in a red dress that brought her pale skin to glow.

As for the next guest, Lady Mina was beautiful in her own chipper way. Unlike Lady Raye, her blue eyes welcomed her with friendship. With a speck of freckles across her nose, she smiled her luscious golden lips, showing off her well-maintained teeth. Her golden hair tied in a bun, showed off the delicate curls in the front.

She, unlike the other woman, held a presence that sparkled of love and friendliness. Clad in a yellow dress, with a blue sash wrapped around the stomach, she looked divine.

"My Queen, it is good to see you once again," Lady Mina spoke, voice held high with admiration.

The other spoke, in a low, solicitous tone, "Yes, it is good to see you once more."

Serena smiled and grabbed the teacup from her maid. The others were given their cups and took a moment to sip. The teacup clattered against the small plate when she lowered her arm. She rested the saucer on her lap.

"I thought you were coming next week."

Mina rested her cup on the table. Mollified, she answered, "The King requested our presence right away."

"Really? For what urgency did he bring you here?"

Mina grinned. "To keep you company."

"Oh, I see." Serena glanced toward the door, and then back toward her guest.

"The King must be very busy to ignore you."

Serena ignored her, mostly because of what she said was untrue, and then asked, "Is the war still on?"

After all, Darien's time was mostly spent with her at the castle than on the battlefield.

Raye spoke about this matter. "Yes, it is."

Serena held her breath, thinking of the kingdom of the east losing to the kingdom of the west—her now permanent home. Her mind wandered toward her older brother, Sammy. Did he evade the war and took his family to safety? She really wanted to know.

"When the war is over, you can come to Lunar."

It was Mina's voice that rattled her thoughts. She looked at her and pondered on her words.

"Pardon me?"

Lady Raye gave a hostile glance toward Mina.

Mina ignored her with a brush of her hand. "When the war ends, you will no longer live here but in Lunar."

Raye sent another hostile glance, and then warned, "Mina, no more."

Those three little words stifled Mina into silence.

xx

"The war will end in our favor, my king."

Darien tore his attention away from the map, which lay neatly on his desk, and stared at his advisor, Andrew. His locks were blonde; his green eyes held respect and admiration in them that it made his cheeks glow. The dark garments he wore hid away his light skin. With a high forehead and stark lips, the man made women swoon into his boyish charm.

Andrew held an innocence appearance incomparable to him.

Darien returned his attention to the map, hands sprawled and back bent. He wished for the demise of Cornelia to come in haste. Like every battle, patience must be reminded. Cornelia will fall. He simply had to wait.

"Your mother sent you a letter."

His advisor also had the titled of being the best loyal friend he could ever want.

"I know."

"What does she want?"

Andrew tugged for answers. Demanded it. Needed it.

Darien pulled away from the map, hands folded behind him. He walked toward the center of the room and noticed that the entire wall from left and right were occupied with many books he had come to love from the outside world.

Just thinking about the past reminded him of his prison. The labyrinth was a prison to those who broke the ties with the gods of Olympus. Each man, each woman made an oath to the gods and followed them to death. Those who disobeyed, or refused to believe in them, were sent to the labyrinth as punishment to other humans.

Now, as time went by, the people living in the labyrinth were now serving a god—one that they never thought to follow. Darien could see their faces pale and grim, each hand trembling in fear. The Lord of the Underworld, the keeper of souls, became their new master.

Irony.

It was bitter irony.

These people wanted to escape from serving the gods in Olympus but now they serve Hades, the most terrifying god, aside from Ares. They feared the future. Death would surely await each one of them.

Instead, Darien became the one they had come to adore. King, and the loyal servant of Hades, Darien transformed their land into fortune—a place where envy no longer existed. Like the Elysium in the underworld, it provided comfort to the people.

This forbidden kingdom became the new Elysium on earth. The people were happy. The people adored Darien. The people faithfully worshiped their master, Hades.

Happiness was given. Smiles were seen on each face. In exchange for their paradise, Cornelia had to fall. Blood needed to be shed. And the people did not refuse.

After all, Cornelia was the kingdom to blame for their misery.

"King Darien, I must know."

Andrew sparked his attention. Desperate for answers, his advisor looked frazzled. The past consumed him. He needed his closure.

It had been a couple of years since Andrew discovered the person behind his parent's death. Revenge screamed in his defensive posture, but he held it back for the culprit was his best friend's mother.

Andrew lowered his head.

Darien faintly smiled. "She will be visiting."

Andrew brought his head up, submitting to his curiosity. "When?"

"Two days from now."

He returned toward his desk and stared at the map. Andrew remained silent for a moment, digesting in the information, and then he spoke, "Cornelia will fall into ashes."

Andrew read his exact thoughts.

xx

Lady Raye was summoned by her husband. She left the room and entered the hallway, leaving the other two women alone. Well, not entirely alone, when Sofia stood by a side, chin tucked to her chest.

Serena needed an excuse for her maid to disappear.

Reading her intention, Mina breathed in a sigh and stood up from her seat.

"Come here, my queen."

Serena did not refuse. She stood next to Mina and placed a hand on her forearm. Toward the window, with the horrendous view of her prison, they stopped and stared, each labeling a different name to it. Then with a pat to her hand, she looked at Mina, and watched as her eyes settled directly into hers.

"You're not like them."

"Like who?"

"Like those people from Cornelia."

Serena frowned. "I was not raised there."

Mina gave an ear-splitting grin. "Thank Hades for that."

"What does Cornelia have do with this," —Serena searched for the proper word and settled with—"place?"

"Our families were sent here as punishment. We had to serve a god. No matter what we had to serve one of them. But we fought for free thinking. We fought against the gods of Olympus. They always rattled us in fear and took us when they wanted to."

Mina glanced toward the maid. Sofia kept her head down, but her eyes were closed.

"The Labyrinth was created by the gods, and Cornelia, at that time, was in control of it. It was a prison, and we could never escape. Some have tried in the past but they never return."

"So it is revenge you seek against Cornelia?" Serena questioned, getting the gist of what Mina was saying.

"You can describe our actions as revenge but it hardly describes our main motive."

"Main motive?"

Mina stared at the labyrinth in deep thought. She resumed, when seconds passed on, "We need to destroy Cornelia in the name of Hades. He is our master, our god. It is the only way we could continue on living in peace."

"All of them must die?"

Mina hummed in confusion, distracted by the sight of the labyrinth.

"The people of Cornelia—all of them must die?" Serena further explained.

"Only Cornelia blood must be spilled." Mina grabbed Serena's arm and turned it, palm face up. "Did you know that Cornelians are born with a mark on their wrists?" She lightly touched her skin with a forefinger. "As you can see, you do not have one. That is how we know who to kill."

Then with her curious mind driving into the main point, Serena said, tone pitching higher than usual, "What will happen when the war ends?"

Mina let go of her arm and smiled. "We resume our lives. And if Hades asks for another act to be done, we shall do it."

That was not what she wanted to hear. And Mina obviously knew that when she teased, "But you were not asking for that." She leaned in close, whispering, "You want to know what will happen to you."

Serena glanced toward the maid. Her head remained lowered, but her eyes were opened.

"Yes, I want to know."

"I wish to tell you."

"Then tell me," Serena whispered urgently.

"If I do, I will betray the king's trust."

Mina leaned away and stared at the labyrinth.

As Mina looked at the massive maze, Serena fumed in silence. Here she had imagined that Lady Mina will be able to describe her doubtful future. In the end, she remained in the dark, never knowing what Darien had planned for her.

It would certainly be a sad future. With a horrible vibe of evil emitting from the people, she no doubt believed that her innocent mind would be corrupted with their way of thinking.

Serena glanced toward Lady Mina when she let loose a deep sigh.

"Before, the labyrinth could never be solved; we survived struggling. Now, with King Darien in control of it, running through the labyrinth never felt so…" She paused for a moment, and then finished, "…_safe_."

Serena paused from thinking and looked at Mina. The way she had said the word made it seem that it was entirely not so. But at the moment she pursued on what she had said.

"What do you mean Darien is in control of it?"

"Darien controls the labyrinth, and the necklace around his neck is more than just a necklace." Mina glanced at her. "It's a dark power_._" Her tone lowered to a whisper.

"A dark power?"

Her curiosity grew when Mina whispered back, "Hades's gift to Darien."

Questions began to form, searching for its counterpart, answers. It thrashed against Serena's mind to pursue its hunger for knowledge. It made her heart race when Mina moved away from the window toward her seat, screaming at her, "_What are you doing?_"

She searched in her mind for a reason and found none. Mina sat, fan opened, moving her wrist to blow air to her face. Serena remained still, unsure of what to do. But at that moment, when she finally decided to ask what she had meant, Lady Raye reentered the room, ending her thirst for answers.

_Another time_, Serena thought.

She glanced toward Sofia. The maid looked up and stared straight into her eyes, and then lowered her head.

_Yes, another time, _Serena thought,_ but without Sofia._

xx

Serena returned to her room and sat in front of the vanity mirror. Unclasping the chain around her neck, she placed the necklace back in its box and shut the lid close. Then she raised her eyes when Darien entered her room.

He strode toward her calmly without a rush to the world.

With his hand resting on her shoulder, she fought back a shudder.

"How was your day?"

"It was nice."

Serena heard the jiggle of his ruby necklace when he lowered his head and placed his lips on her neck. He moved her hair to a side and continued his assault. She moved her head a little, exposing more of her neck to him.

She knew what he wanted. But she wanted something entirely different.

With his hand sliding toward her breast, she clamped her hand around his wrist, earning a growl of annoyance. He stopped kissing her neck and took his hands off her.

"Why do you stop?" His voice was slightly lower than usual.

She turned in her seat and met his lustful eye.

"I have questions needing to be answered."

Darien raised a brow, curious.

Serena resumed, "Why Hades?"

He looked confused.

She clarified, "Out of all the gods, why did you choose Hades?"

Realization struck him when he understood. He moved his feet behind her and pulled the strap off her hair, letting it loose. With delicate fingers, he ran his hand through her hair, distracting her for a moment when she enjoyed the sensation.

"He was the only one who listened to my plea," he answered.

She opened her eyes, not realizing that it was closed, and stared at him through the mirror.

"If Cornelians have marks on their wrists, what is your mark to Hades?"

He smiled through the mirror and placed both hands on her shoulders. Lowering his head, he whispered in her ear, "Our tainted souls."

"What?" She turned her head to look at him.

"We are evil, corrupted, and even liable to turn against you. That is our mark. Our tainted souls are his when we die." He pulled away as he resumed running his fingers through her hair. "We will pay for our crimes in the end. That is why we enjoy our freedom at the moment."

"Is that really your mark?" she asked doubtingly.

"Do you want proof?"

She nodded her head once.

He unbuttoned the first layer of his clothing and discarded it on the floor, not caring for a moment of where he threw it. He removed the second piece of garment, pulling it over his head and revealing his lean, muscular chest. The necklace was fixed around his neck, as it lay flat against his chest.

But below his neck, near the middle of his chest, of where the red ruby rested, a deep scar sat on top of his heart. She ran her fingers across from it and moved the necklace to a side. He took in a deep breath at the soft touch of her fingers.

"That is my proof."

His heart belonged to Hades.

"Was it self-inflicted?"

Somehow she could see him cutting his flesh for Hades.

"Does it matter?" he threw at her.

She withdrew her hands away from him. "No, I suppose not."

"Is that all the questions you have for me?"

She turned her head to a side. The ruby necklace jiggled when he leaned his face close to hers, back bent. She glanced at it as it dangled in the air, and then turned her eyes toward Darien.

Somehow she knew that even if she asked him about his control of the labyrinth, and its connection with the necklace, he would only refuse to answer. Instead, as he was doing at the moment, he would direct his attention toward the one thing that he wanted.

"Yes," she said, and he smiled at her answer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_Past, Present_

Constance sat uncomfortably in her seat. She was aware of the heavy silence that settled between Darien and her. Playing with her fan, she looked around, noticing the red roses intertwined with the green hedges.

It was the middle of the afternoon. The clouds floated in the blue sky and covered the sun from time-to-time. Outside in the open area of the castle's garden, she sat in a chair, opposite of Darien, with only a round, white table separating the two.

The butler served more tea in her cup. She smiled and took a sip, smelling the heavy aroma of sweet cinnamon. Even after all these years, Darien still remembered her favorite tea.

"Why have you come here?"

He broke the silence at last.

Constance brought the teacup to rest, wanting her hands free. It would be quite obvious with the teacup in her hands how much she trembled in his presence. She wanted to hide her fear from him and appear calm.

Those dark blue eyes hauntingly brought the past to her mind. She could never escape from it. Darien was her past she longed to forget.

"You're ignoring my question," he then said, bringing her back into reality.

She smiled and lowered her head. "I wanted to see you."

"And your reason is?"

"Your father is sick. He begs you to come to his side."

Darien chuckled and looked away from her. He threw a leg over the other and folded his hands together on top of his knee. With dark clothing, he shined with a corrupted beauty. The red ruby necklace—a gift she gave to him as a child—rested against his chest, mockingly.

Her hands yearn to rip it from his flesh and smash it against the marble tiles. It would save him from his wicked fate—no, it would save all of them from their wicked fate. But Darien was no fool. Even if she destroyed it, their tie to Hades will hold.

Darien gave him something far more valuable.

Constance had no idea what.

"I'll see him before his death."

Surprised at his answer, she paid attention to his face. He looked at her with a smile that nearly brought a tear to her eye. It had been years since he last smiled at her as affectionately as he did now. She only blamed herself for corrupting him when young.

"You made your mother proud," she told him.

Her happiness was short-lived when he said, "I'm only going to complete your last request."

His sweet smile vanished, and in its place the image of evil stood in front of her. She trembled and looked away. She felt his eyes resting on hers, and then took a glance to confirm the feeling. Indeed he stared at her with a smirk playing across his handsome features.

Constance took a bundle of her yellow dress in her hands and squeezed.

Like her image, her son possessed her face. Black hair mimicked hers, all the way down to the same trait of eyes. His stark lips belonged to his father, Cepheus, however. Even his straight nose belonged to her husband.

But he was almost the exact replica of her. Denying it would be ridiculous.

Even the corruption he possessed belonged to her. All for a silly whim of affection, she corrupted her son for revenge. Hurting Cepheus became her main joy. And she knew that he loved Darien more than anything.

So she turned Darien's love into hate, and made him the man he was today. Cepheus never knew her involvement to her son's corruption. Even as death came creeping behind the door, he still did not know.

Forgiveness never felt so overwhelming. It had been twenty-three-years. She should have stopped him before it went out of control. But, like Cepheus, her weakness was her son. Harming him would be killing her.

Twenty-eight-years-old, her son was handsome as she took a fleeting glance. If only she had the strength to embrace him, she would have rocked him in her lap, as she did when he was a babe, and chanted softly in his ear, "_Forgive me. Forgive me_."

She could only dream. Her son found her revolting.

Darien uncrossed his legs and stood from his seat. Back straight, hands behind his back, he took a couple of steps forward, and grabbed a rose from the hedge. The thorns prickled his fingers. He showed no sign of discomfort.

He wrapped his hand around the stem and snapped it from its captive.

The butler behind her took in a breath, merging his waft of fear with her own.

Darien strode toward her and handed her the bloody rose. Her hand trembled when she reached for it. Taking the rose in her hands, he leaned forward and trapped her in her seat when he placed his hands on each side of her chair.

Her body froze. Breathing became difficult. Up close, she felt the evil attack her guilty soul.

Then, he leaned toward her ear, and said, "Let that be my promise to you that I will finish what you have started."

And he sealed his vow with a peck on her cheek.

xx

It had been simple at first.

Sofia had left the room to fetch a batch of fresh tea to Serena's plea. It was her excuse to escape from the maid's eye. When the bedroom door had closed, Serena had jumped out of bed, paced for a moment, and slipped out of her room, undetected.

Now, wanting to return to her room, she could not deny that she was lost. The castle was immense; it held too many doors to count. It was like a maze, the exact replica of the labyrinth, but only smaller.

She stopped next to a high window and crossed her arms. Outside, even with the labyrinth as the main view, the world seemed cold. Although the sun was shining, and the clouds moved gradually, the world seemed colorless, dead.

It represented heavily of her misery.

She moved her eyes to a side and stopped when she noticed Darien.

He approached the hedge and ripped the rose with his bare hand. She watched him, memorized by how simple he took an elegant flower and claimed it as his own. Just as he did to her, only with threats and promises that forced her father to let her go.

She stared in the distance and rubbed her palm against her arm, soothing away her sadness.

The past consumed her mind of her first meeting with Darien.

**zz**

...

…

…

"Serena!"

She awoke with a start. On the floor, her back pressed against the wall, she noticed her father's study room to a side, and then realized she had fallen asleep. She rushed to her feet and stretched when she felt a tension in her lower back.

Walking across the hallway, she entered the parlour and found her mother rushing through the front door. With a deep sigh, her mother quickly walked toward her.

"Serena, I need your help. Sophie is busy in the kitchen with Charles, and Abigail is attending the animals. Pin the clothes on the wire."

She handed her daughter the pins and wiped her hands against her apron. Moving past her, she headed up the stairs, searching for her husband.

Serena took the task with a groan.

Although middle class, her mother refused to live like the rest of society. She been raised in a poor home, and had done every chore on her own. Her father, Kenji, being a sales clerk, had turned her mother's world upside down when she entered the middle class society.

It had been strange for her. People—maids and butlers—were doing her work. She had felt out-of-place, and she had hated it. She had taught Serena everything that she had learned when she was young—in case something happened to them.

Through the open field, Serena stepped out on the porch and moved across the grass toward the clothesline. With the pins in her apron, she grabbed a white bed sheet and pinned it on the line.

Ahead of her, in the vast distance, the castle of Cornelia shined. She could see the tip of the castle from where she stood, admiring the majestic view. Her brother, Sammy, lived there with his wife and daughter. How she longed to go there and meet the different people. Her father, however, did not allow her to visit.

Twenty-two-years-old, Serena still could not comprehend her father's action. It would be the perfect time, although she was late, to find a man to marry. But her father kept her trapped in the house, not wanting her to go.

She bended over and grabbed another sheet. It became a routine, grabbing and pinning sheets. Lost in her own thoughts, she did not hear the gentle steps approaching behind. But she then noticed the black shadow that crossed her view and looked toward the owner.

In a dark cape, the man hid his eyes. The tunic he wore was white and split from his neck to his pectoral, giving her a glimpse to his lean, muscular chest. Around his neck, a black-chained, ruby necklace rested above his scarred chest, of where his heart lay. He wore black breeches with round-pointed boots.

Curious of the man, Serena turned her head a little, and caught a glimpse of his eye. They were blue, a rather dark shade of blue, with dark lashes.

"May I help you?" she asked.

His lips spread into a smile, but not a word emitted.

She asked a different question, "Are you lost?"

His silence made her heart race in fear.

She then saw her father creep from behind, placing his blade against the man's throat.

"Leave!"

For the first time hearing her father speak in a harsh tone frightened her. Her eyes flicked from the man to her father, and back again. And then in a blink of an eye, the man moved, his cape jerking to a side. The clash of swords cut through the air in sparks. Serena moved back, amazed that her father had kept up with the man's fast agility, but still he was slow.

Swipe. Duck. Swipe again. The man parried and dashed, swiping his sword and cutting through flesh. Serena screamed when she saw her father's blood. In the background, her mother stood, watching in horror at the violent display of swords clashing against each other.

Then he swiped the blade from underneath her father's sword. It flew in the air and landed on the grass somewhere. Her father held in a breath, the enemy's sword pressed against his neck.

Serena looked toward the disarmed sword and made a move.

"Stop." She froze on hearing the man's silent, but firm tone. "Move and I will slice his throat."

She listened to his demand, in fear that he would kill her father in one swipe of his blade.

Then, with a humorous tone, the stranger said, "That was a thrill."

"I found the thrill lacking," her father replied.

"But you appeared pleased," the man argued.

Her father scoffed. "I kept envisioning your head on the ground."

"But it would've been your head instead." The man dug the blade closer to his neck, drawing blood.

"No doubt it would be."

"The bunny comes with me."

"The lion would have to outrun the hunter to keep her."

"But the lion already put the hunter in place unless—" The stranger took a glance behind him, meeting her mother's eyes. "—the rest of his kin wish for a fight."

Her father glanced at her. "I cannot let her go."

"She is yours no more."

"She would die with you!"

The stranger took a step back, the sword still pointing at her father's face. Serena glanced between the two, pondering what she had to do with this. She wanted to ask. Her curiosity demanded it. But she remained silent as the truth became to reveal itself.

"She'll be my wife."

Serena took a step forward, almost demanding what the stranger had met.

But he clarified it all with five little words, "Your deal made her mine."

…

…

…

xx

Serena was knocked out of her memory when she heard a noise nearby. She followed it instinctively and noticed to the hallway on her left that a guard had pinned a maid to the wall. She hid behind the wall, watching as the man attacked her neck with kisses, and slid his hand underneath her dress.

The maid whispered, "Please, stop."

He said, roughly enough for Serena to hear, "You are a whore. Sex is your pleasure and my release."

"Please, stop." The maid appeared uncomfortable and tried in vain to push him away.

He ignored her desperation and pulled down a sleeve, exposing her right nipple to the air before he devoured it with his lips. The maid cried, and tugged Serena's heart with her despair. She moved forward, wanting to free the maid from the evil man, but her wrist got caught by a firm palm.

Serena was dragged and placed against a different wall. Away from the guard and maid, she could not rush back to them, not when Lady Raye stood in front of her with a riding crop in her hand. Dressed with a flimsy white blouse tucked in high breeches, she pointed the riding crop in her face, anger evidently taking away her pretty features.

"Do not interfere."

"That woman did not want him. She needs help. I must return," she explained, hoping for Raye to see reason. She did not. Or she refused to.

"You forget her class."

"I do not care about her class."

Lady Raye approached closer, trapping her between the wall and her. "And what do you care about?"

"Everything—down to the good of humanity."

Lady Raye laughed. "You lie."

"I never lie."

"You lie now."

Serena stomped her foot like a child throwing a tantrum with balled fists. "You do not know me."

"Oh, we are playing that game now of who knows who the most."

"How can you have no heart toward the situation?"

Lady Raye pushed back a lock of her hair behind her ear. "How can you say that I do not?"

For a few seconds Serena felt paralyzed to move. In Raye's eyes, she saw hatred, but not toward her, rather on something else. It was uncomfortable to stand in her presence. That waft of hatred had softened her anger into a small fits of shivers.

Serena was afraid of her. But her fear would not stop her from doing what was right.

Then, hearing her name—no doubt Sofia—she pulled away from the wall and searched for her maid. As for the situation, there was nothing she could do. By the time she made her way toward their spot, they would've already left.

xx

Lady Raye watched as Serena walked rigidly toward the voice of her maid. It was for the best that she did not interfere—not when her husband dealt with the guard.

Footsteps tapped against the marble floors. Slow in their approach, the person languidly made their way toward her.

Raye did not need to turn around to confirm who it was. The moment they—or he—stood behind her, she noticed his familiar black gloves to his white sleeve before the unfamiliar sight of blood dripped from his wrist hug her stomach.

"Finished," he whispered in her ear.

She relaxed in his arms and turned her face to meet his.

With his blond messy fringe, Jadeite was a tall, light-skinned man. Blood spots splattered against his handsome face. On his right shoulder, a bloody handprint laid. The guard must have tried to fight back. It was hard to tell.

He looked at her with his light colored-eyes, admiring her. Love did not exist between them—or so she thought. At times she would like to believe that she loved him. But he did not. Attraction held his interest in the end.

Being married to him would have never happened if she did not mess up with the ritual. No, her mind screamed, she should have never done the ritual in the first place and use her first love as a sacrifice. The image of fire emerged in her mind. She could see the flames lick the walls and boil her love's flesh into black and red.

She paid attention to the present when Jadeite pecked her lips.

"Shall we return to our room? You promised me a reward."

His arousal was clear in his eyes.

She cupped his cheek, and he whispered against her lips, "I like silk."

xx

Constance had departed back to his father's side, taking with her a letter that he had written for his father. She appeared distraught with her sudden leave. But she did not voice her troubled mind, and followed his every word.

She was afraid, sad, and even worried. But she was mostly afraid of the son she created.

Darien despised her weakness.

Left alone, Darien wandered around the hallways, plucking out each thorn from his right hand. The pain did not bother him. He dealt with worse. The scar on his chest was proof of that.

Turning back to the garden, he stopped when he watched his wife near the roses, touching the soft petals with her long, slender fingers. Behind her, Sofia stood, watching her every movement.

He silently padded toward the open land and took a seat in his chair. Sofia noticed his approach and opened her mouth to speak, but he hushed her with a finger to his lips.

Serena hummed a tune he was not familiar with. Turning her head a little, he noticed on the back of her neck the golden crescent moon, the mark of Hera.

Darien leaned in his seat and crossed the leg over the other.

Kenji made a beautiful daughter.

As he watched Serena crouch and touch the rose petals, he closed his eyes for a moment and became lost in his memories.

zz

…

…

…

Darien took in a deep breath and examined the man in front of him. He pathetically cried and begged for his wife to not die. Struck in the middle of her abdomen, she clutched the hilt of the blade with her bloody hands and looked toward her husband.

She pleaded him to leave but he refused.

The war raged on a distance away. Darien had followed them, suspecting them as Cornelia troops. Instead, he saw a common man and his wife traveling back home before a lone Elysium warrior appeared from behind the bushes and surprised them.

The old man was swift. He had blocked and had swiped his blade, being a worthy opponent to the warrior. But his age had cost him to lose when the warrior had ducked and had kicked at his legs. He had tumbled to the ground, back smacking against the dirt in a loud thud.

The warrior was about to deliver the final blow but his wife had intervened and had gotten stabbed in the stomach. In a rage of fury, the man had struck the warrior before he could pull out his blade from his wife.

Darien watched as he cried for Hera, and then he directed his plea toward the God of the Underworld. _Fascinating_, Darien thought,_ how he departed from his god to ask from another._

The ruby necklace pulsed against his chest.

He knew what that meant. Lord Hades demanded a deal with the human.

Darien walked toward the couple. He purposely stepped on a twig, gaining the immediate attention of the old man. He frantically looked around him, searching for his blade, when he found it a foot away from him.

The man was at a disadvantage.

"You are fortunate. Hades has heard your plea."

The man appeared confused.

"What will you offer in exchange for your wife's life?"

"What do you want?" the old man asked. Desperation was in his tone. His wife's life was slipping in seconds. There was no time to question the young king if he held the truth.

"What do you have to offer?"

"I will offer anything."

Darien stopped next to the dying woman and stared straight into the man's face. "Yes, you would, but the question is what."

The woman coughed out blood, her life slipping to the underworld. She looked at her husband, pleading once more, "Kenji, please." She coughed more blood. "Go home to Serena."

Kenji trembled when he noticed her face grimly pale.

"Give me your daughter."

Kenji looked at him, horrified at the suggestion. Darien smirked.

"Give me your daughter, and we have a deal."

Perhaps, it was the desperation. Perhaps, it was the fear of being alone. Either way, Kenji did not hesitate to say, "Deal."

Like the Cheshire cat, Darien grinned.

…

…

…

xx

Darien broke out of his reverie.

He looked toward Serena and watched as she sat on the ground, staring at the blue sky. He never imagined that Kenji's daughter would be beautiful. At first, he would have handed the girl to someone else if she was young in age. Or he would have sent her to Lunar if she was an older woman.

But he never thought that he would have wanted her as a wife.

That pure innocent soul—how it drove him mad. He wanted to tear it apart. He wanted to test her innocence and see how far she would go to stay pure. She definitely cared for others too much. But in a matter of months, she would end up like the rest of them, corrupted in every way.

Still Darien applauded her. Six months went by, and she still did not break.

He would make sure that she would. It was time to give in to his wife's plea.

Then, she turned her head, and their eyes met.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_Harsh Truth_

Darien kissed Serena violently and poured his eager lust into her tired body. The sun barely rose in the pinkish-orange sky. The last remaining star disappeared low in the horizon. It was a chilly morning that made Serena shudder, skin rising in small bumps, seeking warmth.

He read her mind and pulled her closer to him, breast to breast, and placed his hands on her slim hips. Her nightgown rose, exposing her lower body. He entered her dry canal, hissing when he did.

Her body reacted to her discomfort. Slowly, the pain subsided, and dulled her senses into bliss. He pounded into her, skin slapping skin, and groaned next to her ear. He then moved his head and stared at her from above when she opened her light-colored eyes.

Sweat touched his forehead. Even after the first climax, he kept pouring his vigor lust into her slump, tired body. With the sun partially reaching the sky, she closed her eyes when the sunlight flittered through the drapes.

It was after the third climax that he had no strength to continue. He pulled himself out of her and rested to the left—right for him—of her. The day was young. Neither of them seemed in a hurry to get out of bed.

And for first time, she noticed that he did not have his ruby necklace around his neck. It rested on the desk, next to her jewelry box. She sat up in her bed, staring across the room where the ruby gem gleamed when the sun shone upon it.

He noticed her fixation, and then rolled on his back, running his hand across her bare back. With a sheet, she covered her breasts. He did not seem to notice her discomfort. Or perhaps he did. It was hard to tell with his unreadable expression.

"I heard your mother came not too recently," Serena then began.

He stopped for a moment, and then he continued running his hand across her spine. She knew that he did not want to speak about his mother, but she sought for information, before she slowly dove into her main point.

"I pray that she is doing well."

"I will be traveling to the heart of Elysium in a few days to come."

She looked at him, astonished at the sudden news.

"You will stay here," he said.

Incredulous, she asked, "I will stay here? Then who will travel with you?"

"Andrew will, and a few guards. You will be too busy with other matters," he explained, almost cryptically.

Serena did not understand him. Busy with other matters, she thought, he did not know of her intention of escaping. As she examined his face, his eyes closed, and his hand moving away from her spine, she had trouble telling if her husband knew of her plan.

As soon as she looked away from him, he left the bed, his warmth lingering in the sheets. He moved across the room toward the vanity mirror and plucked the necklace from its rest.

Then he wrapped it around his hand, an unfamiliar sight to behold. Common would it be if it hung around his neck. But it seemed her husband had a plan in mind.

He returned to her and climbed on the edge of the bed. He drew close to her, pushing her back to the headboard. With a chaste kiss, he greedily kept his motive from her. Not even her confused expression could prevent him from telling her.

"Do you want it?" he asked her.

She nodded her head. It was an unwise decision to make. But she was not thinking straight, not when he brought his lips so close to hers. Then he kissed her again, softly. It was different from his violent, hurried kisses. He took his time, lapping his tongue around her own, and cupped her cheek.

She needed air. But he kept driving his tongue into her mouth, never stopping to catch a breath. She forcibly twisted her lips away from his mouth, refilling her lungs with oxygen. He moved his head lower to her neck, kissing her down to her shoulder and chest.

She had to concentrate. She had to distract him, to gather information about the gem in his hands.

He stopped from kissing her when she grew stiff. With a smile, he sat on his knees for a moment, catching his breath. His hardened penis exposed to her eyes, grew slack when seconds passed. He then tied the necklace around her neck, gently gliding his fingers across her flesh. Uncomfortable, she touched the gem, and let it rest on her sweaty chest.

Darien rolled back to his spot and covered his lower body with the sheet. She rested next to him and listened to his steady breathing.

"You never did answer my question."

"And what question is that?"

With a flick of her eye, she noticed his eyes closed. He then moved his hands, intertwined his fingers together, and laid them on top of his firm belly. Serena followed his exact movements, apart from closing her eyes and gripping the gem in her hands.

"Why did your mother come?"

He hummed in annoyance. "You never asked me that question."

"Oh, I was certain I did." Serena settled in silence for a moment. "How is she?"

"Cepheus is dying. She wants me to visit him. After all these years, one would presume that death no longer holds her interest, not when she saw so many."

Serena quickly asked, out of curiosity, "Who else did she lose?"

"Everyone," Darien answered cryptically.

Perplexed at the answer, she pursued to comment, "I do not understand."

"It is best that you do not—yet."

He did not ease her troubled mind but kept her hidden in the dark. With a faint promise of knowing about his mother's past, Serena calmly remained still, even though she was bursting inside with a dying relentless pursuit of knowing what he meant.

"It does not matter at the moment. I will tell you another day."

Not wanting to beg him, she moved her thoughts to another important matter.

"Will you be pleased to see your father?"

"No."

Serena could not comprehend the hatred he felt toward his father. Cepheus seemed like a good man. She never met him; she only met his mother once. But she had heard from the maids that he was a gentle man, stubborn, but righteous.

It did not make an ounce of sense in the end. If the people praised Cepheus as King, then why did his own son hate him? Constance did not seem to like to talk about it. In fact, when she brought up Darien's relationship with his father, there was a deep sadness that swirled in Constance's eyes.

It was as if she was to blame for such animosity.

Serena knew she should not push her luck, but she could not help but ask, "What has he done for you to hate him?"

"Everything."

Again, his response was puzzlingly.

She moved on to her displeasure, and returned to her earlier trouble thought. "What will I be doing when you are gone?"

He toyed with her, "You tell me."

"Nothing."

In fact, she was going to do the opposite, starting with hatching a plan.

"Nothing?"

It was as if he read her mind.

"Yes," she persisted.

He did not buy it. "Are you certain?"

She threw at him, angrily, "Unless you believe otherwise."

"It depends."

Quizzical, with an eyebrow arched, she asked, "Depends on what?"

"It depends on your character." He rolled to his side and stared at her from underneath his dark lashes. "You seem scared. Relax. I do not bite."

Serena huffed and sat up in bed. With her arms crossed, she looked away from him, glowering at the door. Maybe, if she played the part just right, he would believe that she had nothing for him to worry about.

"You make it seem that I am hiding something from you," she accused him.

"Are you?"

Yes, the voice in her head yelled.

"No," she bit out.

"Then why say that I am? If your word is true then I shall not doubt you."

She easily turned in her spot and stared straight in his eye. She hoped that she was convincing him to believe her; otherwise, she was only making a fool out of herself.

"I want to ensure you that I am not. That is why I said it."

He sat up in bed. "Fair enough."

She moved past the topic, and grew closer to her aim. "Why did you give me this necklace?"

"I was afraid if I didn't you will die of insanity."

She brought the gem to her eye, ignoring his blunt response. "It is pretty."

"So it is."

Darien hardly cared for it, it seemed.

"Why do you wear it so much?"

He countered her question with his own. "Why do you ask?"

"Curious," she simply said.

"So am I."

She sat back against the headboard. A sense of fear had descended upon her. This was her moment to ask him. Her mind hovered for a moment over the doubtful question. But with a little push of her confidence, she swallowed her fear and returned her attention toward him.

"Is it true that it controls the labyrinth?"

Serena exposed herself to three possibilities: denial, ignorance, and truth. But he went with the most common of solutions and completely ignored her somewhat. Apart from his silence, she heard a tap against the window. She could not make out what it was.

He then said, after seconds went, "It depends."

He was answering her question. She was able to relax in her spot, not realizing that she grew rigid with the silence.

"Depends?"

"On the person who wears it," he clarified somewhat. With a quick confirmation, she noticed that Darien was uncomfortable discussing the purpose of the gem toward her. Or perhaps he was also playing the part. With a faint smile on his lips, she did not know what to believe from him.

"Ah, yes, I forgot to mention." He moved the sheet from his waist. "The war came to an end yesterday at noon."

Out of all the things, how could he easily forgotten to mention that to her?

She grasped his shoulders and pulled him to her face.

She did not care how close his lips were to hers. She did not care of the lust in his eyes. What mattered to her in the world was the safety of her brother, Sammy, and his family.

"What happened to Sammy?"

"Your brother?"

His act of cluelessness poked at her rage.

"I spoke of him before with you. You promised me he would be safe."

"And he is," Darien assured. "He is fine."

"In other words…"

"He is well," Darien insisted. It was hard to believe him. "That is all you need to know about the matter," he continued. His reassurance fell flat on deaf ears.

He simply did not care about her state of mind, not when his was on entire different level beyond concern. He closed the gap between their breaths, and brought humiliation to her face. Instead of worrying about her brother, she followed his lead and submitted herself for another round of sweat.

He whispered in her, "Let us continue."

He was mocking her, and she knew it, but did nothing about it.

xx

It was around mid-afternoon when Serena graced the halls with her presence. Darien had left earlier than she, needing to speak with a general of his, and left it at that. Serena did not push him for further elaboration. She could not help but think of her brother.

If there was one person she could trust it was Andrew. Although, it was foolish speaking to a man who was closely tied with the king, Andrew was perhaps the only man who showed concern for her.

She walked down the hallways that made up the castle and entered the dining hall. At the end of the table, Andrew sat at the corner, alone. The maid had already disappeared into the kitchen.

When he raised his head from his plate, the first question he asked was, "Sofia on an errand again?"

She confirmed it with a nod. The maid was probably looking for her like last time.

"Why do you keep putting that woman at risk? If Darien were to find out…"

"He won't find out. I informed one of the maids in passing to tell her that I would be busy speaking to you."

His plate of food no longer appealed him. He brought his cup of wine to his lips, and with a sway of his hand, offered her a seat next to him. She took it without protest.

"Would you like to dine with me?"

He didn't need to ask her that question. Her stomach rumbled in response.

As the maid returned, and went back in the kitchen once more for a second meal, Serena took a sip of her wine and looked at the advisor. With a black uniform, and embellished gold chains as design, he looked professional in his attire, sophisticated in every way.

He noticed her stare and looked at her. Despair. Total utter sadness gripped him from smiling. She reached over and claimed his hand, comforting him.

"What ails you?"

He looked at her hand touching his, and then slowly reached over with his free hand to push her comfort away.

"Nothing at all."

"Andrew, I will be your comfort, if you need me."

It was all she could do; assuring him that she would always be available for him to chat.

"Why did you come here?" he asked.

"I worry for my brother."

"He is well. Trust me." He eased her mind, just a little.

"What of his family?"

His silence tore her apart.

"Andrew!"

She begged for him to tell her.

"Presumably dead," he answered.

She pushed back her seat, standing quickly on her feet. The chair clattered to the floor, the sound pierced the room with a sickening thud. She was painfully conscious of the thick tension in the air.

It was perfectly possible that his family may have perished. But her heart did not believe it. In fact, she chose not to believe it. But it hit her in the end. Anna, her brother's wife, was of Cornelian blood. Their daughter, although half, was still Cornelian. It was mostly likely—no, it was certain that they had perished in battle.

Devastation hit her. She walked away from the table and dropped herself on the floor. Her cries pierced the room, wrapping anyone around to despair along with her. When the maid returned, she walked toward her side, trying to heal her pain.

She did not want it. She pushed her away softly.

Then with a bark of an order from Andrew, the maid disappeared into the kitchen, never returning for the short time she wailed on the floor. Numbed to the bones, she hardly had the strength to move her legs and head out the door.

"Have you ever felt such despair?" she then asked.

She wanted Andrew to feel her pain. She wanted Andrew to describe every detail to Darien, and make him regret his actions. Instead, he surprised her when he said:

"I do every day."

She turned to face him, teary-eyed.

"How can he be so cruel?"

She had the urge to shout filthy words at the top of her voice; to grab the wine cup from his hands and smash it to the floor. Or even smash her head against the wall, to actually feel the pain—anything to let out her frustration at the man she called her husband.

Andrew seemed to take in her sudden mood calmly.

He said, "Another day I will tell you. Go to your room and despair."

Serena did what he advised and did not emerge from her room until the last day of Darien's stay in the castle. And in that time, she planned her escape. It would be brilliant. It would take him by surprise.

She would do it for her brother. She would do it for his dead wife and child.

But first she sought out the advisor to know more about her husband and his twisted mind. And Andrew was waiting for her at noon, sitting alone at the dining table, with a wine cup in his hands. He knew what she had come for and had offered her a seat.

She took it in silence.

Then he opened his mouth and began his childhood tale. . .


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

_The Tale of Andrew_

There wasn't a moment to lose.

Andrew quickly got dressed and hurried out the door. His mother's scolding was heard behind him. Chores needed attending. He was not in the mood to clean up, not when other important matters were in need of his attention.

He almost stumbled when he failed to turn at the exit he needed to go through.

The maze was quite difficult to remember, but with the black arrows marking the ground, he knew he would get to the market in a matter of seconds. Their home was not too far from the market. Transportation in their caged imprisonment did not exist, if one did not count walking.

Ever since he was a child, he was told that he could never the leave the labyrinth. Nobody knew how to escape from their prison-like home. Or if one did escape, not one returned to tell it.

The gods built the labyrinth for one purpose: to punish those who disobeyed. It was to teach others to not follow in their steps. Life in the labyrinth was harsh at times, but Andrew learned how to survive. No matter how hot the weather was, and how flush his cheeks became, he continued on, for the sake to see another day.

He stumbled into town and heard the familiar sounds of citizens shouting across from one baker to another; kids squealing in delight and jumping in the puddles of mud; and friends greeting one another with a shake of their hand or nod of their head.

The town provided the only place where prisoners could come together—all of them lived in a separate home, in the labyrinth somewhere. In some way, they sought for seclusion, for privacy.

He strolled through the market, hands placed behind the back of his head.

He heard a sheet shake. The sound caught his attention to look up, and above him sticking out the window, a middle-aged woman shook a blank sheet. He lowered his eyes and saw a little boy staring at his torn, brown shoes. He played with the hole where his toe stuck out.

Andrew picked up his pace. He ran toward his group of friends that gathered in front of a rubble home, close to the broken fountain in the center of town.

He heard one of the boys say, "I think it is unwise, Diamond."

Diamond—their leader—was thirteen-years-old. With a sprinkle of freckles across his nose, he messed with his silver hair, and then jabbed a pale finger against the smaller boy.

"This is our chance to find out. Come with me or not, I will explore the labyrinth."

The auburn child grimaced when his slender finger stabbed against his chest. Diamond then moved his hands to his hips, and turned his attention away from the younger boy.

Andrew, panting lightly, approached the group. He received a greeting from Diamond, with two fingers pinned together, the thumb resting on the forefinger and pinky, and waved once.

"You are late, Andrew."

"Hectic morning." He rubbed the back of his head. "What did I miss?"

"The usual," piped in Emerald. Her feet dangled from the wooden crate she sat on. Nestle on the ground, beside her rocking feet, Sapphire—Diamond's younger brother—sat. He gave a smile as a greeting.

"The old woman across the street handed us tools to mark the ground."

Emerald revealed a wool-knitted bag. In it, Andrew saw four oil paintings—two bright red and two dark colors—and a paint brush. The old woman must have brought it to the prison to remember the past.

Diamond took a seat on one of the wooden crates, hands spread apart and placed behind him.

"I hope that it will be enough to use."

"I still believe that we should stay put," the smaller boy argued. Cedric was his name. With auburn hair, and an olive complexion, his green eyes are what Andrew would always notice first. Cedric placed his hands in his pocket and looked to the ground.

Everyone held their eye on him, making him nervous.

Emerald, a twelve-year-old girl, twisted a root of her green hair with a finger. The clothes she bore resembled each of their own; a plain cotton shirt tucked, black breeches, with golden buttons near the waist, and strapped above it was a similar color of waistband.

Each, however, held a different style. Whether it is the jewelry around the neck, in the ear, or belts on the arms, or on the hips, they all held a personal item to make their look show their personality.

Emerald then looked at Cedric.

"You do not have to come. Cower away. We have no use for cowards."

"But no one knows the path," Cedric argued. "The labyrinth is massive. Hardly anyone can tell us where to begin."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"That is why we head out and explore." She leapt off the crate and circled around him, intimidating him. "The old woman provided us the tools. We mark the ground every few steps. We make our path and see where it takes us. If the path is nothing but a dead-end, we return using our markings."

She stood behind him, her breath close to his ear. "It is that easy."

"It cannot be that simple."

"No, it is not," Diamond inputted, "but that won't stop us."

Sitting on a rubble stone, Rubeus, a redheaded boy, sat with a knee brought to his chin.

He said, "What about those mysterious deaths?"

Diamond chuckled. "Frightened?"

Rubeus snorted in return. "Hardly. It does bring up a concern, however."

"We are not women in their twenties. Or women in their thirties. We will be fine."

Andrew kicked his shoes against the cobblestones. "We are never fine. This place is evil."

"That is why we are finding a way out," Diamond said, almost angrily. "I tire of living here. I tire of wearing the same clothes or nothing at all. I tire of these people, sweet at first, but turn your back, and dead will be your name. I want out of this place. Do you not want it too, Andrew?"

"I seek it every day."

"Then, put aside your doubt." He briefly glanced at Cedric. "We will take the trail at the east side."

"Good luck with that," a new voice intruded in their small group.

Everyone grew tensed at the newcomer. Their eyes fled toward the source and found a boy, no older than ten, looked at them with a smirk on his lips. His unruly black hair and dark blue eyes smoothed out his pale skin and dark attire.

The boy loved black. He never seemed to take a liking to another color. Perhaps dark navy and red would suit him. But black was his preference.

"Prince Darien," Diamond greeted. "What brings you here?"

"Nothing." Darien shrugged. "Just wishing you luck."

Diamond moved past the group and took a few steps forward.

"I don't need luck."

"Is it not normal to wish someone luck?"

Diamond ignored him. "What do you want, Prince?"

"I'm bored. Father has been busy gathering troops. He presumably found a way out."

That caught everyone's interest.

Darien continued, "But it is not your concern. I figured to warn you not to go. After all, the troops would be heading out soon. In fact, if you go through the east gate, and take a turn to your right, I figured you will catch them." He shrugged. "But you wouldn't do that, not when I just warned you."

Turning on his heel, Darien left the group and headed past the baker store.

Diamond, with his eyes wide, turned to the group and announced excitedly, "We must hurry. If what he says is true, we will find a way out."

"What if he's lying?" Sapphire questioned, stating the most obvious.

"I doubt he is."

Somehow, with a faint feeling of disbelief, Andrew had a hard time believing Darien. But he did not protest his thoughts and followed the group into the labyrinth.

**zz**

He was thinking of an excuse to explain to his mother about his tardiness. He could tell her the truth that he explored the labyrinth with a few friends. But then it would only make matters worse when his mother was known to be overprotective.

As he had thought, Darien had somewhat lied about the guards. They did find them alright, but the guards did not know the direction out of the labyrinth. It left him rather disappointed that at the end of his mission he found nothing.

He came to halt when he heard a twig snap behind him. Quickly, he turned on his heel, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. Fear was not foreign to him. He often got scared easily.

It was an effort to walk. In the air, he felt danger lurking in the dark. It screamed at him to run. It screamed at him to hide. Instead, he moved his legs, faster.

He stumbled into the small land his father owned. Happiness poured into his soul and relaxed him. It was his mind playing tricks in the end. He turned around and found nothing behind him.

Still the faint feeling of fear hummed in his veins.

Looking back at his cottage home, he noticed his mother through the window. All the candles were lit inside the house. He could see her worried expression, and then she glanced out the window and noticed him.

Andrew knew he was in trouble.

He was half minded to look around him, to make sure that he was safe. But he kept thinking his fear had to do with his tired mind conjuring up images in the dark. It was him, he thought, he was the problem.

Then a pain shot through his belly and numbed his nervous system. Andrew halted and stood still for several seconds. He felt his knees hit the ground; he wasn't sure when he touched the dirt. All he felt was the immense pain, sending signals throughout his entire body.

As for his mother, he heard her, although faint, in the background of his ringing ears, shouting his name.

**zz**

Andrew felt a hand on his shoulder, waking him from his deep slumber. His body began to help the stranger, but he felt comfortable, lying on the ground. Even if he felt a burning heat near his face, he did not want to wake up. Not when he finally felt at peace.

Then he heard a voice. It was hard to recognize. So many sounds were going off in his head. He did not know which one to follow.

The hand on his shoulder became persist. He felt his eyes flutter open and close, and then back again. He swore he saw a dark figure at the side of his vision, pushing him to wake up. It could be his imagination playing tricks with him again.

It did not matter. He felt tired.

But that bloody voice kept saying, "Hang on. Do not die."

Andrew wasn't planning on it.

**zz**

He awoke to a bright room. He had to readjust his eyes several times to see properly.

Lying on a bed, the white sheets tucked underneath his arms, he looked around him, unsure of his location. He looked at the wooden floors and to the windows at his side. There was a dresser across from him, and a door that led to the hallway, presumably.

It was hard to tell at first. But when an older woman entered the room, he noticed behind her that it was a hallway.

With an aquiline face, she appeared to look around her late-thirties, dressed in a blue, white apron dress. Her dark eyes regarded him. She then spoke to him, about his injury. Pulling back his sheet, she lifted up his plain wool shirt, and unrolled the bandage from his stomach.

At the side of his hip, he had a cut, deep enough to kill him. He twisted his head and noticed the skin was held together with a piece of white string. Blood still oozed from the wound. She cleaned it up and wrapped the injury with a fresh bandage.

Throwing the other one away, she returned to the room and sat next to his bed. She started to feed him. He felt half minded to take the plate but he felt tired to do such act.

There was a knock at the door. She shouted for them to enter. And in came Prince Darien, serious for the first time. He quietly waited for him to finish his soup. When the woman left, he took her empty seat, and gave a greeting.

"How are you today?"

Andrew appeared confused.

"Why are you here?" he croaked.

"I heard what happened. As the future king, I have to watch over my people."

It made sense to him.

"Where are my parents?"

"What do you remember from that night?" Darien asked, ignoring his question.

Andrew brought his hand to his face. He never felt so tired in his life.

"The woman told me I have slept for two weeks. Is that true?" He searched in him a confirmation. Darien easily gave it with a nod.

"What do you remember?"

"Pain," Andrew answered. "Mostly pain."

For several moments they stood in silence, waiting for the other to speak first. The aroma of food then slipped into their room, smelling a delectable taste of apples. Andrew felt his stomach rumble lightly. He didn't feel hungry as much as he did before, however.

Maybe it was the smell that made his stomach rumble.

"Your parents are dead," Darien said at last.

His heart thrummed violently.

"Burned to a crisp."

He felt ready to retch.

"It cannot be true."

Denial hit him, then indignation.

"You are lying! They are not dead!"

Darien stood up from his seat.

"I never lie."

"You lied about those guards! They knew not the way out!"

"I said presumably. You were not listening."

Andrew leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling.

"This cannot be."

For the first time he never felt so alone.

He felt a pressure in his throat. But he managed to choke out, "It is murder."

Darien stood closer to him.

Andrew rolled his head forward and looked at him in the eye. As he looked at Darien, it never occurred to him how impassive he was to the situation. His young face never seemed to break away from the cold mask he wore. In fact, Darien hardly smiled.

"How about a deal?"

"What?" Andrew sputtered out.

"I will tell you who murder your parents but in exchange you will not kill them until I kill my father."

Again, his heart pounded violently.

"How dare you say that to me? Have you gone insane?"

"Perhaps," Darien answered, and then looked away. "I will be heading to the heart of the labyrinth in three days. When I return, I expect an answer from you."

Andrew wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Why do you tell me this when I can tell others of your plan?" He shook his head, not wanting to think about the matter. He wanted to sleep. "Can you not see that I am in sorrow?"

"Yes, I do see," Darien said, and returned his attention to him, "I am merely giving you your revenge. As for telling, I can see it in your eye that you can keep a secret."

He felt pain throughout his body.

"I want my privacy."

"I will give that to you." Darien moved away from the bed and toward the door. "Ponder on my words. When I return, I want an answer."

"You have lost your mind, Prince Darien." Andrew rested his back against the pillows. He then said, "Why kill your father? Why go to the heart of the labyrinth? What do you expect me to do when I hear my murderer's name?"

"To make the right choice," Darien answered. He turned to face him. "As for my father, I promised someone I would avenge their sorrow. And for the labyrinth, I have a plea that needs answering."

"Plea?"

For a rare moment Darien smiled, but it held a deep sorrow. "I will tell you another time."

He then left through the door.

Andrew sat in his bed, feeling the tears trail down his cheek. He pondered on Darien's words, and thought about his decision. Should he know the person who murdered his parents? Or should he not engage in the dangerous game that Darien was playing?

His mind told him that there were other exceptions. Killing another soul for revenge seemed petty to him. He wanted something more than just revenge. He wanted them to feel sorry for what they had done.

But what if they never felt sorry? What if they kill again, robbing another child from their parents?

Andrew never felt so confused.

He pushed those thoughts to a side and allowed the sorrow to claim his heart.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

_The Unbearable Truth _

"Darien always played a dangerous game. He bargained with people with what they cared least for," Andrew said.

He sat in his chair, resting his hands on top of the table. Forgotten to a side, his plate of food had gone cold, and his wine cup did not sizzle. He focused his attention on her, watching as she rested her empty cup on the table.

Serena then surprised him. She narrowed her eyes, a violent rage sweeping across her face.

"My father cared for me."

He looked at her sympathetically.

"I imagine he does. It must have been because of your mother that he was not thinking properly."

"What does my mother have to do with me?"

Andrew answered her question automatically, without thinking of her reaction to the truth.

"She was dying. Darien had offered a deal and spared her life. That deal was you."

She was incapable of speaking for a moment. For six months, she never knew. In fact, she never cared for the truth, but it seemed that she did. Slowly, she regained a part of her self-possession.

"It makes sense." She looked away from him and swept her eyes around the room. "Father…"

"It only got worse as Darien got older."

Interrupted from her thoughts, she looked at Andrew, uncomprehending.

"What?"

He cleared her confusion. "The deals—it got worse. Before he did not care what he received in return, it was nothing in the end. But now the deals are more tragic. Sinful. Perhaps, even retching."

Serena leaned back in her seat, toying with the ruby gem.

"What did he do in the labyrinth?"

"He sought for a bargain and came with a prize tenfold."

She frowned at his broad answer.

"What was the bargain?"

"I do not know—and even if I did, I cannot speak freely of that matter."

Serena fumed at his evasive answer. For a moment, there was silence. The kitchen maid returned and took away their cold meals. With fresh cups, she poured them tea, at Andrew's request.

"Why does he love making deals? What's the purpose of it?" Serena asked when the kitchen maid disappeared back in the kitchen.

"To mostly control the person, or better yet for the person to realize what they lost," he answered.

"Like a consequence to their actions?"

"Something like that."

Serena picked up the cup. The sweet aroma pecked at her nostrils. She took a sip, taking in the sweet mixture of delicate flavors.

"Who gave him the necklace in the first place?" she asked, putting down the cup.

"His mother gave it to him."

Serena pushed on with her questions. "Why?"

"Let's just say some people were born with a purpose," Andrew cryptically answered.

"What was Darien's purpose?"

Andrew refused to answer and took another sip of his drink.

Serena continued, regardless of his response, "If I held the necklace, will I control the labyrinth to my will?"

"No."

He did not seem to question where she had heard the information. Serena found that rather peculiar as if he already knew. But she continued on, delving not into the matter.

"Why not?"

"You're not the labyrinth's master," he stated.

It was at this point she had enough with Andrew.

"Can you not answer my questions properly?"

Andrew nodded his head. "I can."

Agitation flowed throughout her body.

She picked up her teacup and took another sip. It soothed her nerves and allowed her to think more properly. With her anger fading, she settled the cup back on the table.

"You never did ask me about my decision."

She looked up and their eyes met. She knew what he was referring to.

"No, I did not. I knew you would refused."

"Wrong. I took the deal." He surprised her again.

For a moment she remained still. Then, slowly, she took in his words, pondering at the reason.

He continued, "It was Darien's mother."

He shook her whole world.

"As for the reason why Darien wants to kill his father it is because it was a promise he made to his mother."

She began to react, moving her head a little to a side. The bitter feeling of disbelief still buzzed through her body. She managed to say one word, but it was enough to gain an explanation.

"Why?"

"Because my mother slept with her husband."

She picked up her head and stared into his eye. Her last question, before Sofia entered through the door, placed him into silence.

She said, "Was she the one who saved you?"

He seemed bothered by the question. Slowly, he gave his answer, "I… do not know. I never knew who saved me."

Then the doors opened and rattled the room with noise. Serena jumped in her seat and glanced toward her maid. It was time for her to return to her husband's side. But she took one last glance toward Andrew and placed a hand over his.

It was all she could do. Comfort him. He seemed to like that very much.

xx

Serena headed back to her room and found Darien lying across her bed, diagonally. He had an arm above his eyes and a hand resting on his stomach. She noticed his steadying breathing, his chest rising up and down.

She moved closer to the bed.

"Where were you?" Darien's voice came instantly.

"With Andrew," she answered.

He did not speak.

She looked around the room and noticed a vase of fresh red roses, sitting on top of her dresser. It brightened the room with color, aside from the dull design of the room. He had told her that he would arrange it to her liking. She had refused, for she would have to share a room with Darien.

But in the end, it did not matter. He came to her room, almost constantly.

She did not want to think about that.

Standing near the edge of the bed, she looked at Darien.

"Andrew told me."

"What did he tell you?"

Again, his voice broke through the silence of the room.

"Your mother killed his mother. You love making deals. And you want to kill your father."

Darien smiled. "He told you that? I was wondering when he would."

Disbelief flooded through her. How could he be so indifferent? Here she proclaimed about knowing about his mother and he acted as if she had spoken about the weather.

Serena took a step closer to him.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you going through with your mother's request? Is she not the one who seeks his death?"

She should know that reason at least.

He moved his arm away from his eyes and turned his head to look at her.

"Yes."

"Then why?"

"I made a promise," he said it so casually.

She shook her head. "It is a promise that you should not fulfill."

"Then I would be going against her. She always told me that a promise must be kept."

Incredulous, Serena fought for him to see reason. "But not this one. This is a life. Do not take it away."

"What difference would it make? I killed before."

In her mind, she sought for reasons, good enough to change his mind. She started with, "He raised you."

In return, he bit back, "Lies—Mother did."

She threw in the second reason, hoping it would change his mind from taking his father's life.

"He was there for you."

He spoke, rationally against her, "Again, lies—Mother was."

She was running out of reasons, but stated the most obvious to him. She hoped with this reason he would not go through with his mother's wishes.

"He is innocent."

Her reason was rebuffed. He chuckled, and said, "He is the most wretched."

She was quick to respond, "No, that title belongs to your mother."

"I cannot argue against that. She is, is she not?"

He sat up in bed and slid toward the edge. Standing on his feet, he stood in front of her, trailing a finger down her cheek to her chin.

She pushed his finger away, wanting his attention to her eyes. He did just that, amused at her serious expression. She allowed the silence to linger for a moment, and then she continued battling against his twisted promise.

"Do not kill your father to please your mother."

Then the truth became revealed.

"I killed his whores to please her. So what difference would it make to kill him?"

Astonished, she could not move a muscle. She tried to relax and take long, slow breaths. But the truth became too much for her. Then it hit her. At what age did Darien kill?

"When did you kill?"

He ignored her. He seemed so transfix with her face that he could hardly pay attention to what she was saying.

"You know what attracted me to you?"

If one truth should be let out, why can't others join in the first? She was not prepared for this. In fact, no one was.

"Your purity," he said, "How I wish to have it. Then again I do not want it." He traced her jaw with a finger. "I hate purity. I hate the righteous. Everyone should be corrupted to the bones."

"To reflect you?" she questioned.

He did not answer.

"Darien." She placed a hand on his cheek, trying to comfort away his pain. "I can help you."

And it was the truth. No longer did she care about escaping—even if her heart churned at the broken promise she made toward her dead sister-in-law and daughter. She wanted to help him. The good in her wanted to help him. Maybe if she changed his mind, he would live a happy life, for once. But she could tell in his eyes that he did not want it.

"No, you will not help me."

She insisted, placing her hands on his chest. "I can."

He chuckled, sliding his hand across his forehead to the back of his head "No, you would not. You just worry about escaping."

Once again, Serena stopped to breath. Somehow, she shouldn't be surprised. Darien kept providing her hints that he knew about her intention. But still it shocked her that he knew all this time.

She pulled her hands away from him. He took her silence to walk toward the roses, softly caressing a petal with a finger. Then he surprised her for a third time. She was getting tired of surprises.

"How about a deal?"

Quickly, on her heel, she turned to him and shook her head, more than once.

"No!"

He still had his back toward her.

"Pity. I have a deal to offer. Perhaps, a little exploring in the labyrinth would change your mind."

She took a step toward him, and then halted, full of terror. She did not want to explore the labyrinth. If she went away, he would continue to fall. She had to reach for him and stop him from killing again. It was the least she could as his wife. And perhaps after he regain sense of his mind he would let her see her family. But Darien was making it difficult.

"I don't want to. I don't want to play this game," she pleaded.

He turned to her and laughed at her terror for a second. He lifted a curve of his mouth, stripping his beauty into a horrible image of malice.

"But it already started," he said.

She denied believing it.

"Darien, please, if you love me—"

"I will not change my mind." By the look in his eye, she knew that he was getting angry. He continued, "By noon if you have not left, I will bring the guards and allow them to rape you on the floor."

That caught her breath.

"My patience is running thin."

"You would not dare do that to me," she choked, putting a hand to her chest.

He could not be that cruel.

In the end, he proved otherwise. "Would you care to find out?"

She began to pull away from him, step by step.

"Darien, you can still be saved."

He looked away from her. "No, I was never meant to be pure."

She wanted to reach for him, but she was afraid. Instead, she fought still for him to see reason to his actions. "Darien—"

"I am going to count now," he interrupted her. "If you are not gone from my sight in five seconds, I will bring you terror."

She took a step more back. "Darien, please see reason."

"One."

He began his counting.

She felt her heart skip a beat.

"Darien, please let me help you."

"Two."

She felt the door behind her.

"Three."

"Darien," she said his name with a bittersweet cry. "Please."

"Four."

She opened the door and ran out the room, never looking back at her husband.

"Five."

Darien smiled.

The game was set.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

_Dark Labyrinth_

Serena was lost in the treacherous maze. Left or right, she was unsure of where she was going. She kept looking back, petrified of the deadly silence in the air. She finally understood the feeling Andrew went through.

She continued to walk.

The sun disappeared, leaving behind a thick fog in its wake. It brought along a mist, shivering her to the bones. It clung to the branches of the hedges; each leaf touched by several drops of water.

Then she entered a two-way aisle. Two different paths, she could not make up her mind. She could not see far either. The fog persistently inched away from her in a slow, turtle-like pace when she decided to take the right path.

The necklace around her neck pulsed. She stopped in her tracks and lifted the jewelry to her eye. It began to glow red. Then she heard a rumble. At the side of her, the hedges began to split it apart, leaves shaking.

She entered the new path.

She turned her head a little when she heard a sound. There was nothing behind. She continued her path, and then stopped again. The leaves rustled to a side of her. She drew close, peering through the branches. In return, two little red eyes greeted her.

A terrible cry rang in the air, and out came a mysterious bird, flying toward the top of the hedge. She looked up and their eyes met. It was a harpy. With a female-like body, and feet like talons, she had a small bald head, and arms like wings.

She screeched, revealing terrible pointy teeth.

Serena felt her heart leap out of her chest when the harpy dashed toward her.

She turned and ran. The harpy followed behind her and caught up in seconds. With her talons, she scratched at her arms when Serena brought them up above her head to protect her scalp. Blood trickled down to her elbows and dropped to the cobblestones.

She held in her screams, afraid that she will attract more harpies nearby.

The path led straight until she saw up ahead a willow tree.

In the bark, there lay a small hideout, curving into an upside-down hoop, as the roots scattered around the ground like a spiderweb. She ran toward it for protection from the evil harpy. Putting herself inside, she pressed her back against the bark, and watched as the creature screeched and tried to enter along with her.

It did not. The tree shook and out came three thick roots from below, trapping her inside. She pulled closer to her protector, and captor, and turned her head to a side. One of the talons had managed to slip through the bars and cut her cheek.

And to her horror, the harpy could not escape when a talon got stuck between the bars. The creature struggled and bit at the roots. Instead, the tree shook, and out came three more roots, piercing the harpy through its torso. Serena grimaced and turned her head away.

Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, the only sound in the aftermath of death.

Slowly, the tree began to shake, releasing her from her prison. She quickly got out and stared at the mystic tree—until another cry pierced the air and pushed her to run.

Suddenly her heart seemed to have stopped and her stomach to drop. In front of her, a Minotaur stood, kicking at its hooves. With a bull head, and muscular chest, it snorted through its nostrils.

The necklace began to stir. The hedges to her left split apart, showing a new path. She took it when the Minotaur started to chase her down. She turned to a left, and then dashed to the right. The Minotaur cried angrily behind her.

Another two-aisle road lay ahead. She had no time to think which path to take. She skidded to the right, stumbling on her knees. Her white dress had brown spots at the end of her dress, and on her knees.

The Minotaur rammed its horns in the hedges. It missed her head by an inch. It shook its horns, a shower of leaves cascaded to the ground. Once it was release, it chased after her.

On the ground, she noticed black arrows. She followed the path, remembering Andrew's descriptions about it leading to the market. The black arrows led to an open path where numerous leaves scattered on the ground.

She ran forward and then suddenly she felled through the leaves. With a quick reaction, she grabbed the ledge, and stared in horror at the trap beneath her feet. Spears decorated the hole with its pointy end. She turned her head away when the Minotaur stumbled into the trap, and a spear pierced its torso.

It gave a weak cry, and then silence came.

She took in a breath and pushed herself out of the hole.

Rushing on her feet, she followed the faded black arrows.

The fog had disappeared. It left a clear view of the hedges. She was grateful that it had disappeared. Now she could see what the labyrinth held for her.

As she turned to her left, she noticed that there was only one black arrow left. For a couple of seconds she looked around her. The hedges were few in number. In its place, trees scattered the area.

She walked forward and came upon an abandon town.

Buildings, that used to stand on its foundation, turned into rubble. There were signs on the ground, each faded. She wiped her hand against one board, the dust clinging to her fingers. There were a few letters she could make out but she did not know what the sign used to say.

She resumed on.

There were a few broken stones in her path. She climbed over them, and hurriedly made her way. Ahead, in the center of town, there lay a broken fountain. The water inside the basin appeared murky with algae growing at the walls. It was filthy. Disgusting. Drinking from it was out of the question.

The necklace pulsed. She brought the gem to her eye, and then looked around to see what path had opened up. But in a quick movement, the necklace was pulled from her neck and snapped. She slid to the ground and massaged her neck, and then stopped when she heard a familiar sound.

Above the broken fountain, a harpy flapped its wings. She screeched and flew to the sky, taking the necklace with her. Serena slowly felt realization strike her and curse her luck.

There was nothing she could do.

She pushed herself on her feet and turned around.

The temperature in the air grew cold. She shivered and walked forward.

Then the ground shook. And the fog began to creep back in to the labyrinth. She looked around her. Fear never felt so unpleasant. And across from her, she saw it—a three-headed beast graced her presence with a growl. Saliva dripped from its mouth and dropped the ground. It sizzled and burned the cobblestones with acid.

She froze in her spot.

The three-headed beast snarled and shook its black fur; its ears were straight up, alert. Its paws were large, big enough to destroy a hut with one step. Each head bore yellow eyes. The middle head snapped its jaws at her. The other two lifted their heads and peered at her from above.

She began to feel her body, and then she ran. It chased after her.

The hedges began to disappear. Trees took its place. She slipped past a few, pressing her hand against several trunks to jump over a root. Behind her, the beast began to tear down trees, hearing the ground rumble as one fell to the ground.

She then took a left and entered the massive maze once more. The hedges were growing in number, and the trees were fading away. She noticed the black arrows on the ground and realized that she was returning back into town.

The beast pounced over her head and blocked her path.

There was nowhere else for her to go. The end had arrived. She slipped to the ground, back hitting the floor with a hard thud. Scrambling to get away, she used her hands and legs to push her body back. When it jumped toward her with a roar, she covered her face with her arms and waited for her life to come to an end.

Instead she heard the sound of flapping wings buzzing in front of her.

She did not know when she closed her eyes. But when she opened them she was in the forest. Trees surrounded the area. The dirt had twigs and fallen leaves and pinecones littered around. There was absolute silence until it shattered at the sound of a buzz.

She looked up and saw a hummingbird. It was the same one that she saw in her room. It zoomed close to her and then flew back. The area went bright for a moment. When she opened her eyes, she saw a man, with white wavy hair, bow his head. He wore a white robe, a yellow sash around his waist, and light-colored breeches. On his feet, two dark boots shined.

"You are human."

He looked at her. He was beautiful in every way.

"Who are you?"

"Helios." He carried himself with a soft, kind voice.

She whispered his name. It sounded foreign to her tongue.

"You saved me. I thank you."

It grew quiet between the two.

The area smelled of pinecones. She hated smelling it. It assaulted her nose unpleasantly.

She looked at him and noticed his expression was unreadable. He stared back her and approached a few steps, and then came to halt.

"I healed your wounds."

She looked at her arms. Indeed her cuts were gone, only dried blood remained.

"You have my thanks."

Standing on her feet, she took a step forward, but stopped when he took one back.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

For some time she played with her hands. She did not know how to answer him. Should she lie or tell the truth? In the end, she felt it was only fair if he knew the truth.

"My husband let me go. No, he is testing me."

"On what?"

She looked at her fingers nervously. "I do not know. Maybe on my goodness." Pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, she returned her attention to his face, and then asked, "Why are you here?"

He answered, "I guard this place."

Serena could not believe it. "You guard this place?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

Perhaps he was a slave to Darien. Perhaps he was bound to the land. She took another step forward, only to watch as he took one back, making sure that a gap stay between them. She had to obey his wish. If he felt uncomfortable with her, she did not want him to run away if she got close. So she stayed put and did not move a muscle.

"Who put you here?"

"Zeus."

_The God of Olympus_, she thought. There must be a reason.

"Why?"

He automatically answered, "To kill those who escape the labyrinth. But I am not needed for that task anymore."

It all made sense. Those who tried to escape in the past died by the mystic man in front of her. No wonder no person returned to tell the tale. She was somewhat afraid of him now.

"Then why are you here?" she questioned nervously.

He lowered his eyes. "I am passing time. I am waiting for my reward."

Baffled, she raised a brow. "Reward?"

"Yes." He raised his head and looked back at her.

Her reason told her that Darien was to blame. It all sounded too familiar and pointed at him. She did not want to believe it, but it sounded so much like Darien to make a deal with Helios.

She had to ask.

"Darien—" He became serious at the sound of his name. She continued, "Did you make a deal with Darien?"

"Yes," he said.

Then did that mean…

"Why were you around the castle?"

He answered simply, "I am waiting."

"For what?"

When he gazed into her eyes, she noticed for the first time a great despair. He turned his head slightly to a side, printing her into memory. Then he gave a wistful smile.

"I am waiting for her birth."

His eyes landed on her stomach, and she knew what he meant. Stunned, she stayed silent, unable to take in that Darien would give up their future daughter so easily. She thanked the gods she was not with child. Her season came a week ago.

He felt regret.

He bowed his head. "I said too much. Forgive me."

And with a flash, he changed into a hummingbird, and disappeared to the sky.

She felt no ill against him. It was not his fault. She wanted to call him and tell him that. But it was better this way.

Hearing the harpies cry nearby, she pushed herself forward. The twigs snapped underneath her slippers. The fog grew thicker as she walked into the forest. It was at that moment that she felled into another trap. This time her quick reaction did not save her.

But death did not meet her.

A hand wrapped around her wrist tightly. For a second she thought Helios returned. But when she looked up it was an entirely different man. Silver hair reached his chin. Mysterious, alluring violet eyes met her light-colored ones. With a straight nose, and pink lips, he was born with a light complexion.

As she rested against his chest, she noticed the faint freckles across his nose.

He then offered a faint smile.

Somehow she felt safe in his arms.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

_Diamond_

He was pulling her away from the trap that would've ended her life. His hand was secure around her wrist, practically dragging her to follow him. He ignored her persistent questioning of where he was taking her as his lips were sealed tight, almost resembling a frown.

But then he stopped and inspected the area. For a few seconds he held still before he moved toward another willow tree. Below the roots, a huge gap stood in between the tree and the ground. He got on his knees, the leaves cracked under his weight.

He entered the hole. She followed behind him when he beckoned her to come. He pressed his chest against her back and shielded her from the world. The sound of many harpies filled the air with terror.

She could hear them flap their wings and surround the tree. Closing her eyes, she took slow, steady breaths to stay calm. Minutes passed, and they disappeared, leaving behind a heavy silence.

Slowly, he moved away from her, and pushed her through the hole. She swiped her hands against her dirty dress and then looked at the man. He brushed his hands across his white tunic. The tunic silt opened to his breast, but it was held together by brown strings, dangling from a crisscross pattern. He carried strength. She admire that in a man.

Not that she found the man attractive. Even though Darien was not the ideal husband in mind, she will stay loyal to him. And she knew that Darien will do the same thing for her.

He then looked up and met her eye.

"Come."

His voice was deep—commanding, but held a distinctive charm to it. Different from Darien's soft tone. She had to stop thinking about her husband but her mind refused. As she followed after the mysterious man, she wondered if Darien was well, alone without her. Well, there was Andrew and the guards to keep him company. But she would like to imagine that he missed her.

She needed to distract her mind.

She asked, "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere far."

His answer did not satisfy her. She wanted to build trust with the stranger. He saved her life. That she was grateful. But she wanted to know him. She supposed she did not want another surprise.

"Where?" she asked.

He let out a sigh. "Somewhere safe."

With his long legs, he took large steps. She struggled to keep up with him. He noticed that she was falling behind and began to slow down for her to catch up. In return, she gave him a smile for being considerate.

"Who are you?"

He glanced at her. "Diamond."

She took in the name, repeating it under her breath. It sounded familiar. She knew she heard it before.

He then asked, "You are?"

If they were only on the first name basis, then she would give him her name. Not her last name. Not her title of being queen. Just her name that she was born with.

"Serena."

He glanced at her for a moment. "What are you doing in the labyrinth?"

She hesitated to answer.

He did not seem to mind her silence. Pushing on, he observed the area cautiously and jumped over a tree root when it blocked the path. She followed after his example.

Gathering the courage, she answered his question. "My husband let me go."

That is all she was going to tell him. She did not want to talk about it anymore nor think about her husband. Tired, she wanted to rest her feet. But he pushed forward, not wanting to rest when the danger was high.

He then asked when seconds filled the silence, "Why would he do that?"

She honestly had no idea, aside that he was testing her. But she did not want to tell him that. It was after all a guess.

"I do not know." She paused for a moment. "Why are you here?"

He did not answer.

Hopping over roots and logs, he led the way, without decreasing his steps. Underneath their feet, the leaves crunched. The smell of pinecones grew thick in the air. She wiggled her nose in disgust.

He suddenly came to a halt. She pondered on the reason. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But perhaps he could tell the danger far better than she.

He then turned to her.

"I was—No, I came to explore the labyrinth," he answered her question.

He looked trouble, as if he was hiding something from her. But she did not want to push him. Maybe his hesitation was because he did not trust her with his complete honest answer.

She respected that, and did not pry.

"Come," he ordered.

She followed behind him once more.

The fog had disappeared. Not a touch of gray in sight. The sunlight, flittering through the innumerable branches, was hot on their faces. There were a pattern of spots of sunlight on the ground.

Their travel continued toward the west. The trees were becoming less and less. They walked up a hill, pushing their tired feet. But once on top, she took in the wheat field.

"The inn should be nearby."

He walked down the hill.

Low on the ground, there were a few flowers scattered around in the fallen wheat grain. She glided her fingers against the tall wheat. It bristled against her fingertips roughly. Again, as she walked through the field, she thought of her husband.

"Do you know my husband?"

It was silly for her to ask him. But Darien was a king to these lands. Surely, Diamond knew of him.

"I need to know a name," he bluntly said.

She blushed in embarrassment. "My apologies. Darien is his name."

He stopped and looked at her.

"Darien is your husband?"

She swallowed her fear. She did not like the look in his eye. It carried a deep hate.

"Yes."

He took her answer with a nod. "I know him. You must know Andrew, his advisor, then?"

She gasped, bringing her hands to her mouth. Standing in front of her was Andrew's friend. How did she not when his name was the most obvious hint? But there could be other Diamonds', her reason kicked in. She was just thankful that it was Andrew's friend she met.

"It cannot be." She grinned. "You are Diamond, the boy who sought a way out of the labyrinth."

He chuckled at her happiness. "So he spoke of me?"

"Yes, quite fondly too."

"Hmm…" He smiled faintly for a moment. He then said, "We should get going. The sun will about to descend."

She listened to his command.

Quickly, with often twigs snapping, they made their way back into the forest and found a trail. It led straight for a few steps and curved to the left. Then it went straight again and up a hill, passing a few molehills here and there.

The footpath ended at a small town. It was dark. The moon had already risen. The lanterns outside the buildings were lit. She hugged her torso, taking in the unfamiliar place.

She had to ask, "Are the people nice here?"

"Somewhat."

She drew close to him, feeling better that he shielded her from the men outside, standing near the door of the inn. He grabbed her arm, bringing her attention to him. Pulling her close, he wrapped his arm around her waist, and gripped her tightly.

She felt uncomfortable but she knew that he was protecting her.

The bell ringed above their heads when they opened the doors. There were a few tables littered around. On each one, a lantern rested. Two out of the five tables, men sat, mugs of beer in their hands. They looked at her and examined her from head to toe.

She only pressed closer to Diamond.

Behind the counter, a feminine-looking man swiped the counter with a rag. He greeted the two with a dashing smile. Soft tussle locks rested near his ears. He held the softest blue eyes. With a black vest on top of his white cotton shirt, he was handsome to look at.

She then noticed his wife, or what she presumed to be his wife, near the door behind him. She was beautiful, as if Aphrodite carved her herself. Her wavy, turquoise hair bounced to her step. She wore a white dress with a floral pattern. It dragged behind her feet like a train.

"Amara, two rooms."

"We only have one room available."

Serena could not help but stare at the man—or woman—behind the counter in shock. Amara winked at her. She blushed and looked away.

Amara handed them the keys to their room. He took it and grabbed Serena by the hand.

In the small room, there was only one bed and two dressers at the side. She walked in, her feet tapping against the wooden floors. He strode toward the window and pulled the drapes together, blocking the moonlight from entering.

Putting the lantern to a side, he looked at the bed. It was big enough to fit the both of them. She did not know what to do. Sleeping on the floor was out of the question. The air was chilly, anyway. Noticing the thin blankets, it wouldn't be bad to have a second body to warm her.

He did not seem to agree with her.

"You can have the bed."

She looked at him, puzzled. "Where will you sleep?"

He grabbed a pillow from the bed and tossed it on the floor.

"On the floor."

The floor was unbearable to sleep on. She would deal with sharing the bed. She was not going to let him sleep on the ground. He did so much for her. She felt that she had to do something in return.

"The bed is big enough for the both of us." She pulled a sheet back and patted the spot. "Come. We can share it."

He shook his head. "I have to decline."

She went toward him. "Come to bed."

"I will be fine."

She then grabbed his hands and held them tightly. With a smile, she looked at him sympathetically. He felt nervous and darted his eyes back to the bed and her.

"Diamond," she said his name.

He stopped from glancing in between and finally settled his eyes on hers. She took in a breath when he brought his hand to her face, caressing her cheek with the back of his fingers. She felt confused at the sight in his eyes. It was hard to confirm it especially since he shut his eyes and brought his hand away.

But for a briefest second she thought she saw something akin to love.

It was barely a day since they met. He did not see her that way, did he? He pulled away from her and dropped himself on the floor. Putting his cheek on the pillow, he brought his knees close to his chest.

"Go to bed," he ordered.

She sighed.

She was not going to give up, no matter what she saw.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

_King Cepheus_

Cepheus knew his time had come.

Lying on his massive four-poster bed, with a red sheet tucked under his arms, he swept his eyes across the room, taking in the last image of it. Light, white drapes tied to each poster, brought more sunlight to his bed. The room held many furniture—chests, dressers, tables, and chairs—resting here and there.

It felt stuffy but nonetheless it was comfortable.

The walls carried a design of red-patterned diamonds. Above him, the high-ceiling displayed a painting of the heavens. He wondered if he still held a chance in entering the Elysium underground. Somehow he doubted it.

He stopped from examining the room when the door opened.

And in came his son dressed in his usual attire of black.

His coat held silver buttons running up a side of his breast. Chains dangled from his coat pocket and curved up, forming a loop. The black breeches fitted snugly around his waist. His round-tipped boots tapped against the floor and approached the bed. He held himself with confidence.

For the first time Cepheus noticed his missing necklace. He always wore his mother's gift; he cherished it with great love. Or so he would like to believe.

Darien stopped next to him and stared at him. He must have seen the exhaustion around his eyes. He must have seen a heavy man in bed, with a roll around his waistline, gray roots sprouting in his black hair, and dull-colored blue eyes.

He must have taken in his old man one last time.

Cepheus liked to imagine that.

It made it bearable to face his son.

He patted his stubby hand on the bed, wanting to reach his son. Darien looked at his hand and touched his fingers. It was enough for Cepheus to break into a smile.

"You came," Cepheus said. "Just like you had written in your letter."

He beckoned him with his fingers to come closer.

"Come."

He wanted to embrace his son one last time. But Darien did not want to move from his spot. Cepheus settled with his hand on his own, not wanting to take away the only affection he had of his son.

Then he noticed strapped around his waist the most obvious detail. He had ignored it on purpose, not wanting to think that his son would use it. But he slowly came with terms with it and tapped a finger against the hilt.

"Are you hesitating?"

Darien smiled lightly. "No."

It was hard to look into his eye. His only impulse was to run away but he was too weak to move, too sick to even lift his legs. He really hoped Darien did not go through with it.

"Have you come truly for my life?" he asked, not wanting to think his son would take his life away. His heart pounded violently. He was unable to look away from his son.

"Of course," Darien admitted. "What kind of a son would I be to go against his mother's wishes."

"She told me everything," Cepheus confessed.

Darien did not seem to care. "Has she now? Trying to play the noble part is she?"

He managed to shake his head. "No, she seeks forgiveness." He gripped his hand tighter. "Darien—"

Violent, and quick, he pulled his hand away from his grip, destroying the precious contact that Cepheus never had with his son. If only he paid attention to him more often, and not left him alone constantly with his mother, none of this would be happening at the moment.

"I do not want forgiveness."

Cepheus did not want to give up on his son. "You will be free."

Darien chuckled, bringing the back of his hand to cover his mouth. "Freedom is a dream."

Whatever his mother made him to believe, Cepheus wanted to counter it with salvation.

"Darien. Your mother… She did not mean all of this."

He wanted him to see that. His mother suffered from a heavy jealously. She was one of those people who acted before they saw reason. They can never grasp the enormity in their errors until it was too late to do anything.

Cepheus did not want Darien to follow that path.

"Did you know who my first victim was?" Darien said. "Rachel, the maid."

Again his heart raced painfully. It was plainly obvious that this was a reference to his mother's influence in the past.

"My second was Sandra, the wife of a general. The third, Annabelle, a chamber maid. The fourth, Sylvia, a baker's wife."

"Darien." Cepheus wanted him to stop. He refused to see his point.

"Then there was Cassandra." Darien continued counting the bodies. "Marie. Pauline. Jezebel."

"Darien, stop!" he ordered.

"And the last, Karina."

There was a heavy silence at the end of his impassive tone.

Cepheus cut through the thick tension with a shaky voice. "You are not to blame."

"I did not kill Elizabeth," Darien said. Cepheus turned quiet. "It was mother. She took it upon herself to do the act instead of using her son. It was the last kill. And what happens to her? She feels guilt, and cannot kill again. Why is it, Father, that I had to kill but I could not feel regret?"

Cepheus had no answer to give him. Constance did wrong to their son, and they were both paying heavily for their actions.

"Did you know what she used to say to me?" Darien continued, much to his discomfort. "'Emotions are for the weak'."

Cepheus looked directly into his eye. "Darien, your mother did not mean it. She was ill."

Darien shook his head. "No, she was a coward who used her son for her malicious acts."

Cepheus reasoned, "She was twenty at that time."

"I was five," he countered angrily. "What difference does age make?"

For a few seconds the silence invaded the room. Darien gained a bit of his composure and walked away from the bed, turning his attention to the window. Outside, the sun was bright, and the sky was barren of clouds. It appeared peaceful, different from the atmosphere in the room.

"You can still be saved," Cepheus reasoned.

He ignored him. "When I went to the heart of the labyrinth, I had a plea. Did you know what my plea was?" He looked away from the window and met his eye. "For us to rot in Tartarus."

"Darien, you just want revenge."

"No." He shook his head. "I do not want that. I just want all of us to drown in our corruption. There is no good in us. We are evil."

"No." Cepheus fought for reason. "We are here because we fought against control. We are here because we wanted a better future for our children."

"Instead, we turned against each other," Darien said, putting an end to his reason. He had nothing to counter against that.

Then his son approached the bed, slowly in his steps. The sword, pulled from its sheath, shined from the sunlight and reflected the horror of his face. Darien gripped the black hilt with both hands and raised it above his head.

There was nothing Cepheus could do. This was his end.

"Darien, you are my only son."

It was pathetic to attempt to reason with his son. His mind could no longer comprehend the fear in his tone.

"And you my only father."

It came swift.

His mind burst with an overbearing pain. Somewhere far off, he could hear his son's voice. It sounded like he was saying his final farewell. He wanted to answer back, but he felt something stuck in his throat. He never realized that it was his blood blocking the air in his throat.

And then everything started to fade, and all he heard was silence.

xx

Constance held in her breath.

Inside the room, Darien was with his father. She wanted to burst in and stop him from killing Cepheus. But she was afraid. How can she go against her only son?

The past numbed her senses.

She had begun to remember the night she had caught her husband with another woman. He had her pressed against the wall, her legs strapped around his waist tightly. She had heard them moan, watching as he pulled back his hip and went forward, and repeated the process.

She had not been thinking properly when she had spoken to her son. She had twisted his mind with lies. She had told him that his father was evil, corrupted, like everyone around them. He had easily believed her. He was only four at that time.

Then after months had passed, and her son was five, she had enough with Rachel, the maid to her son. She had given Darien a knife, and had told him to use it and stab it in her throat.

He was afraid. He did not want to do it.

"Do it for your mother."

"I refuse." He had cried. "I like Rachel."

"She is no good. Your father will leave us for her."

He had only cried harder, rubbing his eye with his free hand.

"Darien." She had cupped his chin, making him look in her crazy eye. "Do you want me to go away and have Rachel take my place?"

"No." He had looked to the ground, the knife held tightly in his hand.

"Then do it for your mother. Kill away all my sorrow. Promise me that you will."

"I promise."

He had kept his word until this day.

She had pushed her son to his limit and had transformed him into evil itself. And there was nothing she could do. Twenty-three-years had come and went. And during that time, she did nothing but feared the day when he would carry out her final request.

_Your worst enemy_, she reflected, _was you_.

Then the doors opened.

Darien came out of the room, and behind him, she noticed Cepheus laid dead. She gasped, bringing her hands to her mouth. Darien looked at her, and she noticed the blood spots scattered across his light face.

He approached her, and said in passing, "Finished."

A tremor had shot up to her spine. She collapsed to the floor, feeling helpless. Her throat felt raw, overcome by shock.

She shouted at him, "Did he mean nothing to you!"

Her voice echoed against the walls, and returned to her, mocking her with the same question. He stopped in his step and turned to her, reading her troubled mind.

"Did he mean something to you?"

She cried, tucking her chin to her chest.

"If you cared so much for him, you should have stopped me."

There was no denying the truth in his words. She was given the moment but refused to take it. She feared to lose her son. It was not any different as she was losing to him now, however.

He continued down the hall.

And she was left alone with one other person.

She said to them, "Will revenge satisfy you?"

She heard their steps approach, and then stopped right behind her. At the corner of her eye, the sunlight poured through the high windows, and displayed a shadow. In their hands, they gripped the sword and positioned it above her head.

She knew it was her time to join the underworld.

"No," he said.

She instantly knew who it was.

It seemed he wanted revenge for his mother's death—the first kill she committed with her own two hands. Guilt will never leave her alone. Perhaps in death, she would finally find peace.

She couldn't help but ask, "Why then do you seek my blood?"

And he answered, "Because it is the right thing to do."

She looked at the shadow and watched as the sword came swiftly down. And all she could feel, before her mind went blank, was insufferable pain.

xx

Darien wiped the blood off his face with a cloth.

Hearing a shriek nearby, he looked up to the sky and watched a harpy descend, dropping the necklace in his gloved-hand. The harpy then flew away, heading back toward wherever she came. He smiled and saved the necklace in his breast pocket. He would've liked to see his wife's expression when the necklace was ripped from her neck. She must've been frightened without it guiding her.

Looking at the cloth in his other hand, he took in the red smear and laughed at the sight. His old man surely bled a lot. In his mind he could still see his expression seeking for forgiveness. He took in a breath and smelled the fresh air. Sitting on top of a stone wall, he turned his head and noticed the green field that led toward town.

The sun hovered above his head. Andrew should be finishing up soon.

Tucking the cloth in his breast pocket, he looked out into the horizon, of where the forest laid. Soon he will see his wife again. It was about time he checked on her, anyway.

He thought again of his father and wondered why his expression bothered him. It would soon pass in time. He hoped.

For a few seconds he continued to wait—until he heard footsteps approach, revealing a frazzled advisor. He smiled at him and jumped off the stone wall.

"Come. We have things to do."

Andrew followed without protest as he placed the bloody sword back into his sheath.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

_Pearls and Emeralds_

Serena looked around the small room. The drapes covered the sunlight from entering, dimming the room in a light shade of black. In the corner, one of the dressers laid, worn and sturdy. The lantern rested above it, dormant.

But as she looked around, she came to most obvious conclusion. Diamond was not here. His spot next to her, after she begged and forced him to sleep on the bed with her, was barren.

She slipped her feet in her worn-out slippers and headed out the door. Downstairs, resting against the wall behind the counter, laid a clock. It dinged when the hour struck nine. She had overslept.

She saw the same woman from last night, wearing a light blue dress, coming out of the kitchen. Her turquoise hair rested against her shoulders in waves. She was elegant, with delicate features, a turned-up shape nose and arched eyebrows. She noticed Serena and a smile took her beautiful face.

"Is there something wrong, miss?"

She carried a light tone of voice, sweet and invitingly kind. Serena quickly became comfortable around the woman.

"I can't seem to find the man with me. Diamond is his name."

"He's exploring the town. He won't take long to come back," the woman informed.

Despite of his (unannounced) departure, Serena felt relieved knowing where he was. The unsettled fear hanging around her heart seemed to have weakened and disappeared. For a moment, she clung to the illusion that he had left, leaving her alone. The unknown was something she always hated, and did not want to face by herself.

With Diamond, she realized she felt protected. But most of all, he kept her company, which she valued the most.

"It looks you might need a dress." Serena looked at the woman in front of her, noticing how her eyes seemed to have taken in her tatter, dirty dress. "I think I have a dress in your size."

Serena refused, not wanting to take too much generosity. She already felt like a burden to Diamond. In fact, she promised that she would repay him in some way for providing her security. She did not want to take from this woman, when she knew she could not repay her. For the chances of seeing her again would be slim.

Serena kindly said, "It's quite alright."

But the woman continued to insist, not wanting her to wear the filthy dressed she had on.

"Come with me." The woman grabbed her hand, violating her personal space. She tensed at her touch, but slowly welcomed the pull, as she walked up the stairs, down the hallway, and into her large room.

If possible, Serena would like to request for a map. For if she ever came back to this part of the land, she would look for this woman—for this Michelle, as she introduced herself—and repay her for her kindness.

xx

Even with her polite manner, Michelle offered little words to their conversation. She seemed quite content with brushing her wet hair—from the bath she took in Michelle's tub—and pulling it up in a bun. As Serena had left the room, with the new dress and pair of new slippers, she couldn't help but notice the violin against the wall.

It was a small, enchanting-looking object. Coated in dark chocolate, with silver strings, it shined with a silent beauty. It lay quiet against the wall, waiting. For once the bow came in contact with the strings a powerful voice would haunt the room with beautiful music.

Just like the owner.

Serena walked out of the room, thanking Michelle again for the dress. She smoothed out the front, loving the sight of pink on her flesh. She pulled the white lace from around her wrists; it had flounced elbow-length sleeves.

She headed back into her room, hoping to rest for a moment. Instead, she stumbled in surprise when she noticed Diamond next to the bed, placing a few dresses on top of it. Serena had a curious feeling running through her. She approached and spoke, starling him for a moment.

"Diamond?"

He looked up. His eyes roved over her dress and went to her face. "Where did you get the dress?"

She looked at her dress for a moment. "Lady Michelle gave it to me."

"Oh… It's quite lovely."

She blushed at the compliment. At an instant, she directed her attention to the dresses on top of the bed.

"And the dresses are for?"

He looked at them. "I thought you might need some."

She walked toward the bed, examining each one.

"You have my deepest gratitude." Pulling out a white one, she pressed it against herself. "They seem to look like my size."

In his hand, he twirled a necklace of white beads, unsure of what to do with them. He seemed hesitant to speak, unable to look away from the object in his hand. She then came to understand that those beads were for her.

He took the courage to look at her. "These are for you."

"Pearls?" She was too shocked to say anything aside from stating the obvious.

"I thought," he said, "it would look nice on you."

She smiled, not trusting herself to speak.

"Here let me put them on you."

She did not refuse his offer. Turning around, with her back given to him, she pulled her hair to a side and held it close to her breast. Softly, she felt his fingers touch her flesh, and grew tensed. Then slowly the cold object touched her flesh, a shiver running down her spine. He secured it and moved his hands away.

"Thank you," she said.

She turned round and faced him. He held her around the waist, closing the gap between them when he pulled her closer. She felt the buckles from his waist, and felt his strong chest with a hand.

Diamond had fallen silent for a moment, and seemed to have focused on her mouth. She needed a distraction, not liking the dark cloud in his eyes. It was terribly nerve-wracking to think. She quickly reacted when he lowered his head, his lips coming closer to hers. Pushing him away, she walked quickly toward the door, saying, "I can smell something delicious!"

She hoped she did not sound nervous.

She hurried down the hall, and then glanced behind her. He kept a long distance, having his head lowered, eyes set on the ground. But when he looked up, she noticed the hurt in his expression. He did not like her rejection.

But she ignored him, for she did not like the affection she was receiving from him.

xx

Behind, against the wagon seat of where an old man sat, Serena sat, enjoying the sun against her flesh. It had been three days since their departure from the inn. Diamond had paid the old man for a trip to his home. The old man was already traveling toward their direction and did not refuse them. He had told them that he loved company on his long journeys.

Looking at her companion, Serena noticed how quiet Diamond had been ever since they had left the inn. She did not want to have any conflict with him. He was her only friend. To lose him at this point of their friendship would devastate her.

She broke the silence, wanting to hear his voice. "Where are we going?" The answer she already knew but she wanted to break the tension between them. Plus, she did not know what else to say to him.

Diamond shut his eyes and bended a leg, the other laid flat. He rested his elbow on top of his knee and leaned his head back slightly.

A few seconds went by and he spoke, "To my home."

The tension seemed to have lifted somewhat.

She said, more confidently, "Where exactly is it?"

"It's a little close to the river. We'll be arriving midday."

He went back to being silent.

Serena pressed her fingers together, unsure of what to say to him next. Instead, as she glanced around, she commented, aloud, "Elysium is beautiful to look at."

It was no lie. The land screamed of beauty. Green tufts surrounded the area, with tall trees, blocking the sun from time to time. In the distance, she noticed mountains, the tip of their peaks covered in clouds. Down the dirt path, lavender flowers, mixed with white clovers, sat, swaying to the gentle wind.

Diamond agreed with her. "It is."

Serena grew restless. Directing her attention to Diamond, she wanted to learn more about his home; and the people—if he had any workers—that lived with him. But most of all, she wanted to learn more about him.

"Do you live alone?"

"No."

"Oh…" She rested her hands on her lap. "What do you do?"

"I serve the king in any way possible."

It was as if he was saying to her, "None of your business." His secret affair with Darien was mysterious, and added with the hate, overbearing in his tone, she knew her place and kept quiet.

The wagon moved into a clear dirt path. Trees, too many to count, sat against each other in rows from left and right. It blocked the sunlight, rendering their path into a pleasant shade. But once in a while, Serena would see the sunlight against her skin in a pattern of spots.

She turned her head to Diamond.

He had his eyes opened. He looked at her, as if he was looking for a clue. She felt disturbed and turned her head a little to avoid the scrutiny in his eyes.

"Do you live in the heart of Elysium?" she asked.

She sought for a distraction.

"You mean Lunar?"

She appeared confused. "Lunar?"

At that moment, he looked away. "Yes, the heart of Elysium, Lunar; the grand town of where the castle lays." He added after a brief pause, "That would be your home."

The old man began to talk to Diamond about how his family lived there. Serena listened, half-waiting for a chance to speak. She wanted to know more of the journey to Lunar; she sought to reunite with her family.

Taking a chance, before the old man continued, she said, quickly, "My family—I heard they live in Lunar. Is there any chance that I can visit them?"

Diamond thought for a moment. "I will have to take you. But the ship won't arrive until a few weeks."

"The ship?"

The old man informed, cutting in their conversation pleasantly, "The river separates Lunar and Calla, which is this land. Elysium has many towns around the river. The ship would travel to each point, providing food, clothing, or even transporting people to their homes."

"Is there no other way?"

"Swimming," the old man said, chuckling.

Serena sighed quietly. "I can wait then."

Down the path, as the old man took them, there a lay town called Romero. They traveled further east, until the old man pulled up against a large, elegant home. At the side, a smaller looking-shop laid quietly, undisturbed.

Diamond walked forward in the open dirt path, dropping the chest near the steps of his home. Serena trailed behind him, slowly.

There lay a strong gate to a side, holding the chickens in place. The horses neighed in the stables. She heard a cow moo nearby. On the grass, to the left of her, there lay a big tree. A strong rope was loop around the branch, and held the wooden swing. Then she saw a woman walk out of the home, a smile taking her long face.

"Diamond!" she shouted. Her voice was alluring, but held a high-pitch behind it.

She wore a light-patterned dress. Underneath, she had white stockings with a pair of brown buckled shoes. Her green hair rested against her back in soft waves. She wrapped her arms around Diamond, kissing him on the neck and cheek. It was evidently clear that she was more than a maid.

Then her brown eyes looked away from him and narrowed at the sight of Serena.

"Who is this?" she said, biting back most of her jealousy.

"Darien's wife."

Quickly her jealousy vanished, replaced with doubt. "Darien has a wife?"

He climbed up the steps, ordering the butlers to take the chest to the guest room.

"Why wasn't this announced?" the woman asked.

Diamond explained, "He doesn't want no one to know yet," and quickly went inside.

The woman huffed and turned her attention to Serena.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, my queen."

"Serena is fine."

"Emerald is fine as well," she said. "My husband is quite rude. He didn't even write to tell me of your stay in our home."

Somehow Serena was not surprised to discover that the woman in front of her was his wife, even though Diamond gave no hint of having one.

Emerald then said, "Those are quite beautiful pearls." She laced a finger around the beads. "Your husband has great taste." Looking at Serena straight in the eye, Emerald smiled crookedly.

"…Thank you."

Already Serena felt uncomfortable.

xx

Diamond sat against the headboard, with a knee bent, and looked at his wife. She sat in front of the vanity mirror, placing on her favorite necklace, three emerald gems tied together with diamonds. It sparkled around her high neck as she touched it, delicately. She grinned, loving her necklace, perhaps more than him.

She then directed her attention to him.

"You should have written." He sighed when she started again with the same conversation they had moments ago. "You know I hate surprises."

"It was a sudden request from Darien. I didn't know she was his wife until she informed me," he explained to her, hoping she will let the conversation to rest.

Of course, she didn't.

"And you believed her?"

"Why would she lie to me?"

Emerald looked at him in disbelief, her mouth hanging open slightly. "For all we know, she could be stealing us blind."

"She's not lying. Darien cared too much for this woman," he explained.

"What is she doing here? If Darien cared for her, why is he not providing her a home?"

He ignored answering her last question.

"Darien requested it," he said, putting a bit of a bite behind his tone. "I have to watch her. She is my responsibility." He then added after, "Keep your tongue from telling her that."

She looked at him through the vanity mirror. "She doesn't know? What is Darien playing at?"

Diamond refused to tell her of the deal he made with Darien. He would not lose, but it was difficult when his heart told him otherwise. He began to think on a different matter, but Emerald continued, much to his displeasure.

"I hope you did not deal with him."

Emerald read his mind clearly. She knew him quite well in their five-year marriage. But he refused to tell her of the trouble he was in. In fact, he lied to her face, as easily as he did to Serena.

"Of course, I didn't. Just remember to treat her nice, and don't tell her of the matter."

Emerald rolled her eyes. "Diamond, I'm no fool to ask for my head on a platter. If Darien is playing a game on her, then I will play along as well." She painted her lips in red.

"You should have taken the mansion when you were given the chance," she said a little later.

He knew what she was referring to. Darien had offered him, in exchange of his hard work to him, a mansion and a few acres of land. He did not want it, however. It heavily reminded him of his occupation.

He loved this home. It sat in a peaceful, quiet setting, with people he could trust. He felt comfortable, but Emerald refused to see it. She wanted to live in the high-class estate and pretend to act as a queen.

She did not like it here. He did not care.

"I can still own it," he said. "Darien has not given it to anyone else."

"We should take it," she persisted.

She glared at him through the vanity mirror when he shook his head.

"I don't want it."

She pushed back her seat and walked toward him. Pulling her nightgown up, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and looked at him lovingly. She was trying a different tactic to change his mind.

"We would be happy."

He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers.

"Think about it," she urged, softly.

He did not. Nothing she would say or do would change his mind.

Then, pushing her breasts against his chest, she kissed him. And he responded, thinking of someone entirely different from his wife, who slept in the guest room down the hall.

He needed to stop thinking of her. Otherwise, he would lose his chance of freedom—the one Darien promised in a deal. But as much as his mind did not agree, he thought about Serena. And he wanted so much to lay her against his bed and feel her flesh against his own.

His kisses turned violent, not wanting to let her go.

He heard a moan, and his restraint was no longer in control. He pinned her against the bed and attacked her neck. He wanted more of her; he needed to feel her flesh.

"Diamond."

He imagined her lips moaning his name, begging for him to take her. And he would ravish her and kiss her at the moment of climax.

But then he stopped, realizing who he wanted the most. And it was not his wife in his bed, but the woman, down the wall, who was his queen, and the wife of his corrupted king.

His sweet, hallucinations of her were replaced by the face of his wife.

And at that moment, he hated Emerald.

He wished she was dead.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

_Fast Current_

It was near the afternoon, probably ten past eleven. The chickens cuckooed in their pen, and the horses neighed for attention. The air felt pleasant to explore and unwind the trouble she had inside.

Emerald, a good woman at times, was hard to communicate with. Jealously played a huge part in her character, and dominated her senses when her husband provided her—Serena—company. He meant nothing to her, a good friend that is all, but Emerald had this illusion that she would take him away from her.

"It would not happen," she had avowed to her after Emerald confronted her on the issue. The older woman didn't buy into her honesty, but nonetheless felt at ease.

Serena tilted her head back and saw the sky was a lighter shade of blue. The sunlight bore on her face, and disappeared for a moment behind the leaves of the tree. She sat on the swing, kicking her legs up and folding them back to gain some speed. Lost in her own world, she hardly noticed Emerald approach.

"What are you doing?"

Serena sat up startled and looked at Emerald. She placed a heel on the ground, coming to a complete stop.

"Nothing. I'm enjoying the weather," Serena said.

Emerald rolled her eyes. "How dull." She walked to the bark of the tree, trailing her fingers against the rough layer. She did not speak for a moment. Most likely she was lost in her own thoughts. For when she twirled on her heel, she proudly suggested, "Let's go on an adventure!"

"Adventure?"

Emerald's excited tone did not waver. "Yes, let's go on an adventure! Let's go somewhere far!"

"Where?"

"I don't know. How about we—"

"How about we what?"

Both jumped when Diamond approach, having a grave face. He pulled the cravat from his neck, exposing his neckline. His black gloves contrasted against his white attire, going along nicely with his black riding boots. Placing his cravat in a pocket, he rested against the bark of the tree, standing near Serena.

Emerald picked up her patterned, yellow dress and drew close to Diamond.

"The queen—" She received a glare from Diamond. She bit her tongue, forgetting that no one knew of Serena's royal status. "I mean Lady Serena and I was planning to head into town later."

"What for?" he asked. For a momentarily glance, he rested his eyes on Serena.

"She wants to explore and enjoy the fine weather."

He pulled away from the bark of the tree and wrapped a hand around the rope. With his undivided attention, he looked at her from above, as she tilted her head to meet his eye.

"Is that what you want?" he asked. He patiently waited for her answer.

Serena thought heavily on her decision. In truth, she did not want to travel anywhere with Emerald. She did not trust her. But on the other hand, having an "adventure", as Emerald lightly defined it, guaranteed a passage of time.

She made up her mind. "Yes. It would be nice."

Diamond took in her answer and nodded his head. "After lunch then we can go."

Annoyed at his decision to meddle in their event, Emerald protested, "I was hoping it would be us two only." There was a faint whine behind her settle tone.

But Diamond did not change his mind.

"No."

Emerald looked displeased.

Serena wondered vaguely if the decision she was about to make would be the right choice. But the look on her features, noticing her pouted lips, and the creasing between her brows, Serena gave in to Emerald's plea for an adventure for the two.

She only hoped Diamond did not disagree.

"It would please me if I can travel with Lady Emerald alone."

Still Diamond did not give in.

"No."

Emerald pushed, "Oh, Diamond—"

In an instant, his demeanor changed. She could feel his anger flow from his body and assault her with fear. She froze in her seat, not liking this side of him.

"No. That is final."

For a second their eyes met. She tensed at the sight of his rage, stripping away his beauty into a hideous face. Diamond made it clear that he will protect her. But something in his tone began to unsettle her.

Yes, for certain, she did not like this side of Diamond.

When lunch arrived, and they headed back into the house, it was quiet.

In the dining room, the three of them sat, banging their forks against their plates when they picked at their meal. Serena took a sip of her wine, watching for a second as husband and wife glared at each other. The tension became unbearable. She picked up her fork and resumed eating, trying her best to finish her plate of food. But it tasted like rubber and tied her stomach in knots.

Diamond then spoke; his voice piercing through the thick walls of the heavy silence.

"Do you like the meal?"

He directed his attention to her.

Serena responded, "It's delicious." It was before her stomach refused to eat it when the silence became too much for her to handle.

"It could use a bit more meat," Emerald commented shrewdly. She stabbed a fork in her meat; a clink resonated loudly from the plate. She then looked at her husband. "How is your brother?"

"Sapphire is having another child."

Not shocked, Emerald casually replied, her tone a bit demeaning, "Another child? They go at it like rabbits. How many children does he have anyway?"

Diamond, not bothered by the insult, responded, "Three."

She flabbergasted at the number. "Three children? Quite a large number."

Serena pitched in the conversation. "I think three children is a blessing." She noticed from the corner of her eye that Diamond smiled. Her answer pleased him.

Emerald scoffed, "A blessing? Only a herian* would say that."

Insulted, Serena kept quiet and attempted to finish her meal. Even if she did not believe in Hera, she would have easily said the same thing. But she did not want to argue over something silly.

Diamond noticed her change of mood, and calmly questioned, "Do you wish to have children?"

Serena never really thought about bearing children. She had heavily concentrated on escaping, and then her concentration had fled toward her family, before Darien had clouded her mind. Not once did she ever think about children. Not even when Helios mentioned his reward—her first daughter—did she think about it. But, as she sat in her chair, for the first time she pondered and came with an answer in seconds.

"As much as I am able to."

And that was the truth.

"Yes, well that is nice." Emerald took a sip of her wine.

"Don't you want children, Emerald?" Serena asked.

Emerald seemed troubled by the question. She took another stab at her meat, deafening the sound with another clang. Then her hand began to loosen, and the fork had slip into a clatter on the floor. Pushing her seat out, she left the table, storming out in a rage. The maid then came to the table and picked up her mess.

Serena desperately wanted to know the error in her words to receive such reaction from Emerald.

"She will be fine."

Diamond tried to settle her guilt in peace. But it did not work.

"Did I offend her?" she asked.

He gave her a surprising answer: "She can't bear children."

Her guilty conscious tripled, wishing she could take back the question.

"I-I apologize. I did not know."

He ignored her when he directly asked, "Does Darien want children?"

She couldn't think. "I suppose he does."

"You never asked him?"

"No," she replied. She never did ask him. But she supposed he would have for Helios' sake.

Then, without expecting it, Diamond said, "I always wanted children. Three, in fact."

For the first time Serena began to realize that Diamond hardly cared that his wife had left. In fact, he was rather content that she did.

xx

Heading to her room, Serena wanted some time to herself. But Emerald had different plans when she pulled her to a side, ignoring the yelp of surprise and her confused expression.

She said quietly, "Let's go."

Serena followed her when she went outside. "Go?"

Emerald urged, "Come on!" She did not want no one to know that they had left together alone.

Serena looked back toward the house. "What about Diamond?"

Emerald pushed on. "He'll catch up."

They quickly fled away from her home and into a dirt path. Emerald kicked against the dirt; dust clouding the air and clinging to the tip of her black shoes. She did not care about the dust on her feet and on her stockings. She was enjoying herself. Some of her enjoyment poured into Serena.

"Where are we going?"

Emerald turned around in a whirl. "It's called an adventure."

They followed the lane through light and shade—trees blocking the sunlight from the quiet-still forest. Bluebells covered the path mixed with the grass. They were bright and beautifully made by the earth. She would have taken some if she knew where she was going.

The birds whistled a tune, and fluttered away when she stepped on a twig. In a nearby distance, she heard the rush of water, most likely the river that separated the lands.

"What is the river called?"

"It is the River Styx," Emerald replied. "Fall in the icy water and you won't get out."

"The River Styx?" Serena asked.

Emerald beamed, completely ignoring her. "Chase me!"

Serena began to protest. "Lady Emerald, I don't think—"

But Emerald did not listen and ran deeper into the forest. Serena followed after her, trying to catch up to her speed. For a moment she thought she had her when she stepped through a curtain of vines. Instead, to her surprise, it led into five different trails.

She whirled her head, unsure of what path to take. A faint echo of a cackle was heard nearby. It was no doubt Emerald. She followed the sound. It led straight to the path of the River Styx.

There lay a flat overhanging rock, weeds sprouting out from the cracks. Below, the river flowed, rapidly; although, she could not see it. For an unfamiliar reason, there lay a heavy fog above the broad river. She heard groaning, unsure if the sound came from the river. The air was like ice prickling her skin, shivering her bones until they ached.

The river was no doubt cursed! She felt a bad omen in the air. She knew she needed to leave.

But then it happened. She was not expecting it. When she turned around, she had found Emerald behind her. They were face to face, breath to breath. Her mouth twisted in a smirk, while she stared, agape. She felt her heart pound heavily in her chest and beat in her ears. Then her body began to slip, as if a hand was pulling her away from her.

She did not expect to fall into the fast current and watch as Emerald looked on, amused.

Immediately, the river dragged her. She twisted and fought for the surface. But like an invisible hand holding her down, she could not get out. Oxygen soon became precious. She thrashed and reached for the sky. Bubbles escaped from her nostrils and shrouded her in a cloud.

Soon her eyes became heavy. Her thrashing began to stop. She saw a bright light in the sky, unsure if it was the sun looking at her. Then, as if the river was throwing her out, she felt the water pull her back and send her to shore.

She coughed violently, feeling her ribcage in her chest. She hacked and gagged before a shiver claimed her. Her body felt weak and unresponsive. Water rolled in to her knees and drew back. When strength reentered her body, she looked up and noticed she was in a different part of the forest.

Her bottom lip quivered profusely. She blew out a small white cloud. The cold did not seem to end, not even when the sun slipped through the leaves and shined its sunlight above her. She rested her cheek on the rocks, ignoring the prickling sharp ends from a few.

All she wanted was to rest.

But then at last warmth came to her. Like a heavy blanket, it poured over her body and eased her aching bones. Strong hands grabbed her and dragged her to her feet. She closed her eyes when the sun hit her face, unable to see who she was with. Carried away into more sunlight, she opened her eyes when she rested against a flat boulder.

And in front of her she saw a bandaged face; his flesh pink and charred near his brown eye that spoke of concern. She lowered her vision to his hands and noticed bandages wrapped around them as well. In fact, if not for the loose attire, she would have never seen the bandages around his entire body, hiding away the raw skin.

She returned her gaze into his eyes and marveled at his concern as she leaned into his warmth that was pouring into her.

* * *

><p>Meaning of word: *Herian-follower of Hera.<p> 


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

_Lucas_

Serena slowly opened her eyes and found herself in a room, tucked in bed. Her eyes swept across the room, taking in each unfamiliar item until her mind joggled a remembrance. This was her room; the one Diamond gave her for her temporary stay.

She stopped and looked to a side, having a feeling someone was nearby. And surely there was a shadow. It approached her and sunk in a spot next to her hip. The shadow began to fade away, and in its place, she finally saw Diamond.

The candle swayed to a quiet wind. It brushed over the room, creating shadows out of furniture, her mind instantly contorting the solid black background into menacing creatures.

But she was not frightened of the dark. Not at all.

But when the flame cast an orange-black hue over Diamond's face, her heart stirred painfully. He looked livid, possessed, and high on rage. Hatred—he screamed of it. But it was not at her. No—she knew that it was not at her.

He caressed her cheek with the tips of his fingertips gently. Slowly, he grew bold and placed his entire left palm on her cheek.

In and out, in a deep haze, she swore she saw his face lean close, inclined, lips hovering over hers. But it was her tired mind that was playing tricks. For in a second, at the moment she blinked, he resumed his earlier position, back straight, eyes focused on her face.

He softened his gaze and wiped the bangs away from her eyes.

"Rest," he murmured.

It was difficult to comply, especially when her mind drove to find the man who saved her life. She glanced around the room, searching. But the stranger was not here.

She turned to Diamond, watching the flames flicker shadows across his face. He seemed less livid and more approachable. She slowly began to relax in his presence. With his gentle fingers pushing her hair away from her face, she started to fall asleep.

"Rest."

Her body listened to his demand.

The next day her eyes ached unbearably and her body sore. Still she pushed herself to her feet and sought for answers. Breakfast eaten in bed, she quickly placed on her slippers.

The maid, Elise, nervously watched as she moved constantly.

She advised, "You must rest."

"I feel fine," Serena replied.

She stood up and pattered toward the door. The maid watched her go in fear, and scurried quickly behind her, eyes lowered to the ground.

Serena stopped near the rail, where the stairs curved twelve steps down. She overlooked the flower vase, secluded in a corner, on top of an end table, and stared at the entrance door. Peering over her shoulder, Emerald glared and walked outside, calling for a maid.

She slowly began to pull away from the rail and walked on. She did not want to think about Emerald. Not at the moment. There were other pressing matters that she needed to attend to.

She barged in the study room where Diamond usually occupied himself. Different from her husband's, and smaller, the room carried several books to a side, saved on shelves. The window behind him provided light to his desk, and cast the sunlight on his back. But what caught her attention was the sword saved in a glass case, hanging on top of the wall to her left.

It shined with a deadly beauty. She cast an apprehensive glance toward it.

Elise, behind her, spoke in a rush, "I am sorry, my lord. She refused to rest."

Diamond did not seem pleased. "You should be in bed."

Serena gritted behind her teeth. "I am fine. I am not sick."

He went silent for a moment before he looked at Elise and ordered her to leave. She listened to his command and closed the door behind her. Alone with Diamond, Serena stood in front of his desk, with a hand lain on top of it.

"Where is the man who saved me?"

His answer came crisp and professional. "There was no man."

Delirious, Serena shook her head. "That is not true. I saw a man covered in bandages. _He_ saved my life."

She did not imagine him. He was real. She felt him. She saw him. And she remembered vividly those concerning brown eyes of his.

Diamond pushed back his seat and walked around his desk. He came to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You are sick. You must rest."

His reply enraged her. "I am not sick! I saw him!"

He remained silent at her sudden outburst.

Was there a possibility that Diamond did not want her to find him? Did he know him? Was there a unreasonable hatred he had against the stranger? Serena wanted to know.

But Diamond refused to give her answers.

Instead, she made up her mind. "I am going to find him."

She twisted herself around and headed toward the door. She would find the stranger, even without Diamond's help. The man had to live in the forest, so she presumed. But it was her only lead.

Then, without knowing what was to occur, she reached for the handle, and jumped when a dagger pierced the door, inches away from her head. Her stomach churned painfully. She gulped; her throat dry of mortification.

"You will stay here," Diamond demanded.

Stunned, she turned and faced him.

"…no."

She will not listen to him in the end. She would find that man. Diamond will not stop her, even if that ethereal beauty, encased in glass, was used against her.

"Serena." His tone changed, ripped from his harshness, and into a sweet sigh.

She did not budge.

"You've been acting different ever since we left the inn. What troubles you? Why the sudden change?" she asked. Her fear vanished in haste and left behind a strong build of rage.

He went silent and turned his head to a side, unable to face her directly.

"I want to thank that man. Can't I have that?" she continued, her voice rising.

"There is no man. There never was a man," he said, sounding exhausted. Perhaps, even apologetic for his earlier action.

"Lord Diamond, I am not a fool. I know what I saw."

It was an effort to turn and face the door. Her back exposed, she was vulnerable for a second dagger, or sword, to pierce her back. Diamond, however, will not kill her. He would threaten her to stay, for whatever reason she did not know, but he would not kill her.

She knew that much.

But she did not leave the room.

Diamond spoke, angrily, "Did the inn mean nothing to you?"

Thrown back, she faced him, quickly in a whirl. "What?"

In quick steps, he approached her and pinned her against the door. Her heart floated to her ears, drumming loudly and quickly, like a thunderous clap, repeating at every second. She placed her hands in front of her, her fingers curving into his cotton shirt.

Up close, he smelt freshly clean with a mix of charcoal. Beads of sweat were clear on his forehead. The room felt pleasant at first, but as she moved around earlier, she felt hot under the collar.

She then met his eye. Those violet eyes took her in and never left her face.

"Do I mean nothing to you?"

She had no answer to give him.

"I cannot deny it any longer." He cupped her face with both hands. "You mean something to me."

With a deep tenderness, he leaned forward and claimed her lips. Everything melted away into incredulity. Speechless, she struggled to react to his passionate kiss. He tugged on her bottom lip, and swept his tongue across her lips. He tugged for a reaction to meet his affection. But she gained instead her self-possession.

She pushed him away, forcing him to take a step back. It was enough for her to gain some space. And it was even enough to deliver a slap to his face.

xx

The sound rung off the walls, driving an instill message to his brain that he had overdone it. His cheek stung, but the pain did not bother him as much as the empty, hollow feeling in his chest.

"Have you no shame!" she screamed. "You are a married man!"

She spun on her heel and escaped through the door, stomping her way down the stairs, and out into the world.

He did not stop her.

He felt nothing in fact. Not even the rejection affected him. But that would soon change. He simply needed time to swallow in the bitter taste of rejection.

"I hate her."

He walked out of the room and turned his head to a side to the person who spoke.

"She should've died."

Emerald seethed with balled fists at her side.

Diamond remained silent and ignored her rage. The main entrance held his attention. Should he run after Serena and tell her the truth—the whole truth that involved her husband as well?

He did not have the guts. Freedom tasted precious, and he will not lose that to his feelings.

"What? Can't speak?" He heard Emerald say. He continued to ignore her.

Diamond placed his hands on the rail and looked below. The butlers began to clean the tables, while the maids moved with freshly clean sheets. It was hard to pay attention to his workers below him, when his wife kept pestering him about his feelings.

"You brought this to yourself!" she spat at him.

He decided to settle this conversation back in his study room. With the door shut, he reclined against his desk, feeling the heat of the sun against his back.

Diamond only had a few words to say to her, enough for her to behave.

"Touch her and you will die."

She exploded when he mentioned death. "Is she more important than me? I've been your wife for more than five years! I was there for you when you needed me! She has only been here for a couple of days!"

He calmly repeated, "You will not touch her. That is final."

Her anger continued to increase, ruining her mind to speak than think. "Is that it? You choose her over your wife?"

Diamond listened and did not speak.

Then she hit him with the one thing she swore she will never bring about: his dreadful occupation. "Does she even know what you do? Does she even know of your tie with her husband?"

He hoped his glare would shut her up. But it only fueled her to continue.

"Does she even know of the many people you torture and murder?"

He refused to answer that.

"Well, does she know?" she pushed.

He glanced toward his sword saved in a glass box.

"Does she know!" she screamed.

And he replied, with a calm, serious tone, "No."

"No, of course not. She will never fall in love with the king's executioner."

He snapped away from the sword and faced her rage with his own.

"That will not be me anymore!"

Emerald laughed, pitching the room with her high cackle. "I knew it. You made a deal with him. And let me assume that your deal involved his wife."

He glared at her with hatred, digging his nails into his palms.

She took that as her answer. "She will be quite surprised to discover that she is part of the deal."

That was the final straw.

He approached her and roughly grabbed her chin, forcing her to stare straight in his eyes. "You will shut your mouth."

She retorted, "No. This ends now."

He pushed her to the door as her back met in a slap. Pulling the dagger, he cut her cheek as a warning.

"Tell her and I will be the one to kill you."

Stun, she hit the ground on her rear and stared into his eyes. The thin cut on her cheek spilled blood in a trail of beads.

Diamond ignored her shock expression, and departed from the room, needing to regain his mind from taking drastic measures to enforce his point. It would be so nice if he could just cut her throat and end all his problems.

xx

It was nearing dawn—and Serena had to admit that she was lost. She had started off with a high determination to find the mysterious stranger, but as hours passed, her determination sizzled into preoccupation to herself.

She did not know where the town laid. The forest looked the same from every turn, minus a few rocks and boulders that nestled next to the bluebells sprouting underneath. She also had to admit that her anger impaired her sense of direction.

In fact, as she walked aimlessly through the forest, she had thought about not returning to Diamond's home. She felt awkward and required time alone. If she had a choice, and the money, she would've preferred to stay at an inn. But, alas, she had to return to his home, not for his sake, but for her own.

What a sad situation she was in.

There was a rustle near a side of her. Alarmed, she followed the sound, doing the opposite of what her body commanded her to do. Past the bluebells, and snapping twigs, she caught sight of the stranger. Her body was rushed with relief. Quickly, she dashed toward him, afraid that she would lose sight of him.

He noticed her and walked on.

"Wait!"

He ignored her as he slipped through light and shade with graceful steps.

She shouted, "Wait!"

The path in front of her blocked her way to him. Out of nowhere, there laid a huge boulder. She moved around it in quick steps, and faced a few stumps along the path, only to discover on the other side that he was nowhere.

Or so she thought.

"Why are you following me?"

She spun around and looked up. He sat on top of the flat boulder, with a leg bent, the other hanging in the air. With one eye covered with a bandage, he stared at her with the good brown eye that he had.

_Did he hurt his other eye_, she thought.

"Well, won't you answer?"

She swallowed away her concern and approached him with one step forward.

"I want to thank you for saving my life."

He cocked his head to a side.

"Is that it?"

Shocked, she gasped at his indifference.

"Then if that is all, I am glad that you are well."

He lowered his bent leg and jumped off the boulder with ease. The dead leaves cracked under his weight, and cracked some more when he shifted his legs and wiped the dust from his hands. They were silent for a moment. He regarded her carefully, and then, with a nod of his head, went on his way.

She stumbled after him.

"Wait! Give me a name at least!"

Considering her proposal, he stopped and glanced behind his shoulder. "Lucas."

Serena smiled. "Lord Lucas, it would be my delight, if you dine with me tonight."

Lucas shook his head, a downright refusal to her request. Her happiness flattened in a flash.

She implored after him, "I would deeply appreciate it, Lord Lucas."

He paused for a moment to say, "I am no lord. Please refer me as Lucas."

Then Lucas continued on, walking through the forest with confidence. He knew where he was going. Serena could only assume that he was heading back to his home. But as far as she had traveled, there was no home, or cottage in sight. And it surprised her as she continued to follow him that he resided not in a home, or a cottage, but inside an empty cave.

There lay blanket on top of leaves; a makeshift bed, she presumed. A lantern sat to a side, unlit. And in the middle, rocks circled around the wood ash.

She had seen enough.

"Come with me," she insisted.

Lucas sat on his makeshift bed. Around his shoulders, he wore a cape. He brought the black woolen sheet closer to his chest, blocking away the sight of his burnt skin and the dirty bandages around it.

He simply said, "You do not know what you ask."

She sunk on her knees next to him. "Please. I want to repay you. I will not rest until I repay you."

Lucas pondered heavily on her words. Taking advantage of the situation, she touched his chest, above his beating heart. A pulse struck at her soul and left her numb at the familiar sensation. He pushed her hand away quickly and jumped on his feet.

Doubtful, she looked at him, taking in his brown eye.

Whatever the feeling was, she completely ignored it when he said:

"You must go."

He was heading back into the woods.

The sun began to dip in the horizon. It left for a momentary second a reddish-orange hue in the sky. Past the branches above her, she noticed the first star shine in its small form of a dot.

Night was approaching quickly.

She knew she should return back home, even if she knew not the way, but she could not leave Lucas alone in the woods. She raced after him before he slipped away from her forever.

With both hands, she grabbed his bandage one, ignoring his rough skin at the fingertips. He turned, and she noticed, in his brown eye, his surprise.

"Please," she begged once more. "Come with me."

He pulled his hand away from her hold.

"You are persistent."

"No." She shook her head. "I have determination to do what is right."

He grew silent.

"I want you to come with me."

"You do not know what you ask," he said a second time, and then added, "I am a curse to the people."

"And I care little of that," she responded quickly.

He was quite taken by her concern.

"I want you near." He turned his head a little, considering her offer. She only had to push a little more. "Please."

He gradually made up his mind.

xx

Diamond walked up the stairs with a dark pensive look on his face. The worst thing Serena had done was to bring back the stranger into his home. He held a chance to reject her plea, but one glance at the stranger he knew he couldn't, no matter how much he wanted to.

He had to suffer with his jealously as Serena helped the man by changing his bandages, a task a maid could have done. But Serena was stubborn and refused to let another treat Lucas. It was her way of repaying him for saving her life.

Diamond knew for he once saved her life and received the same treatment. But he held no injury, and instead he was given the privilege to share the same bed with her, a mistake on his part. For he now had to suffer the loss of her warm body every night.

He paused at the top of the stairs.

Next to him, Emerald stood, arms crossed, and eyes staring ahead. She looked at nothing in particular.

"So now we are housing a crippled," she rudely expressed.

He easily replied, "It's what Lady Serena wants."

He strode toward the second guest room, and heard Emerald perfectly say, "Of course."

Ever since the incident in the study room, Emerald had remained silent throughout the day—until Serena had returned with the stranger behind. She must've taken in his threat strongly, for when she stared at Serena, and the man beside her, she quickly had called for a maid to clean up the second spare room. It was if she had already had known that he would agree to Serena's request.

He entered the guest room, knocking on the door first, and found Serena standing near the window, smiling wide.

In a small room, a four-poster bed rested against the wall. Next to the bed, a nightstand laid with a candle shining bright. By the foot of the bed, a navy chest sat with a golden line running along the lid. Across from that, a dresser was given with a rectangular mirror hanging above. Three more candles were lit, providing more light to the room.

"I hope the room is to your liking," Diamond said.

"Yes, very."

The stranger stood next to the bed with a tatter cotton shirt and dark breeches. He no longer had his torn cape around his shoulders. Without it, his injuries were better seen, but mostly all of it was hidden away with the fresh bandages. Serena had done an excellent job.

Serena beamed, "It pleases me that you like it."

Diamond narrowed his eyes. She was too good to realize the error of bringing the stranger here.

Too good.

But he remained silent, making another grand mistake.

"If you need me for any service, I will gladly help," Lucas offered.

He really was something.

Diamond glanced toward Serena and saw her smile toward Lucas. His mind danced with jealously and overpowered him from thinking.

Diamond softly said to Serena, "You should rest."

Serena nodded her head and approached the stranger. "Goodnight, Mr. Lucas."

Lucas sighed. "Lucas is fine."

She only giggled to his light scolding. Forgetting that he was there, she stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on Lucas' cheek. His heart burst with rage and transformed his hands into quivering fists.

She slipped away from the man, and gave a warm smile toward Diamond. He glanced at her as she passed, and for a small moment their eyes had met. As she took a step into the hallway, he coldly bid, "Sleep well, _Lucas_."

Lucas in return gave a short chuckle.

He shut the door behind him and watched as Serena entered her room without a second thought. His body pulsed with adrenaline; his mind thirsted for action. Instead, he pulled away from the door and headed toward his room. It was no surprise he found Emerald behind, smirking.

He narrowed his eyes and moved on. She silently followed behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes: <strong>If you are wondering about Darien, he won't make an appearance until chapter fifteen.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

_Out of Control_

Diamond rested against the wall and intensely watched Serena sit on the green, tuft grass, chatting amiably to the man next to her. Lucas appeared bored, letting his eyes roam and take in every detail around him, until his eyes met his own. He glared, and the man simply looked away, his lips curling into a smile.

Smug satisfaction reeked from him. He was delighted over his displeasure. Diamond felt his blood boil; his need to shout filthy words and to smash a few things in reach was tempting but he restrained himself. Not for his sake, but for her own.

He did not want to make a second mistake. The first was the dagger, unintentional on his part. He did not know what he was thinking when it had happened, but in no way did he want another unrestraint behavior added to her list, if she had one.

Diamond relaxed, only a slight. It was enough to restrain him from strolling toward their area and pull Serena away from Lucas. But if he did march his way toward her, he will have to listen to her defensive remarks toward Lucas, and possibly hear a few negative comments reflecting his behavior.

She would say, "Diamond, he is a kind fellow," or, "Diamond, release me," or, "Diamond, you're overprotective!"

Her many excuses would force him to comply and release her to the abomination; to a burnt man with little to nothing to offer in return for his stay at his home. She would defend him, a man she knows little about, only because he had saved her life.

But than Diamond would be lying to himself that Lucas was more than nothing; an abomination; a burnt man with little to nothing to offer. He was a person with power and control, enough to make Diamond terrible in his knees.

Lucas was a man one should not meddle with. No—no one should mess with the man. Lucas, _the burnt man, _played the game well, enough to fool even the woman in front of him.

xx

When did he first felt the pull; the obsession; the high lust toward Serena? Was it the moment he laid eye on her?

Helpless and alone, she had endured enough trails from the labyrinth and had failed to see the obvious trap in front of her. He had not expected to save her on impulse. He had never cared for another life, aside from his brother. But one look in her sky-blue eyes, he had felt the tug in his heart stir. Even now his heart stirred when he looked at the woman innocently swinging without a care in the world.

Damn that Darien. He knew he would fall in love with her innocence. How she reeked of it. He wanted to taste her skin; take a bit of her purity and rub it on his tainted flesh.

He did not know what Serena was to Darien before but he did not expect her as his wife. Denial had taken him first, lasting until they had arrived to the inn, and then confusion had toyed with his thoughts. Why would Darien, their king, marry her?

It could be that she was a liar. But she did not smell of lies. Out of her mouth the truth pour out. And who in their right mind would call Darien their husband? Only a fool would, but this woman was no fool, but another chess piece to the game.

Diamond turned his head a little. He imagined hearing his king's voice, whispering in his ear, "Doesn't she look divine?"

Darien would refer to the scene outside, where his wife sat on the swing, kicking her legs forward and backward. Lucas was nowhere in sight.

"Why did you let her go?" Diamond would ask.

His mind made up a response, one that could be taken as Darien's real answer. "If I had not released her, we would have never had made a deal."

"Don't you miss her?"

"If I said yes, would you believe me? Either way, with your incredulity, you will take my answers as lies."

Diamond looked away from the window to the end of the corner where he envisioned Darien sitting on a chair. He would have a leg rested over the other, his fingertips would be touching each other and his elbows would be resting on the armrest. He would seem smug, a light smile touching his handsome features.

His clothing would be different; after all, this was his fantasy. Instead of black, he would be dashed in a dark shade of blue and light-colored trousers. His dark hair would be messy as a piece of hair would fall over his eye. He would seem menacing, as he was in reality.

Even in his fantasy, he could not imagine Darien any other way. He truly left a sinister mark in his path that one could not forget.

"If you were real, I would change my deal."

"You know that I'm nearby. You can always tell me. But then you would be admitting defeat. It would be uncharacteristic of you."

"I can't go through with it."

"Are you sure your conflict is with me or with yourself?" Darien spoke back. But was it really him or his thoughts that he was battling with?

"I don't know," he spoke aloud, the silence shattering around him. It eventually grew quiet, back to its original state.

He looked toward the window, watching Serena lean her head back, facing the sun, where the branches blocked the sunlight from touching her face. The last time he had looked out the window in admiration, Emerald had caught on to his lust.

"What has caught your attention, my husband?" He remembered her saying. He had the opportunity to look away and hide his lust but he had wanted her to look. He was done hiding his true feelings.

Emerald had looked out the window, watching as Serena read a book, lost in her own little world. She had appeared perplexed at the sight, not understanding why Serena held his concentration, but then she had noticed the look in his eye. Whatever she had seen, whether it was lust, love, or intrigue, she had seen what he had wanted her to witness.

She had laughed a little, clearly unable to digest the inner turmoil she was experiencing. But then in a quick reaction, she had awakened her rage.

"She needs to go."

"No, she stays." He remembered his voice. He had sounded eerily calm, perhaps even satisfied that he was arguing with his wife.

"No, she must go!" Her voice had risen to a shrill shout, enough to catch the maid's attention nearby.

"She is the queen," he had said.

He had pushed the last restraints she had to control her rising rage. "I don't care if she is the queen! She has to go!"

He had looked at her, noticing her flushed face to her rising chest falling every second, only to rise again. Then he had stared into her eyes, noticing the tears that were about to fall. But she had held them back, not wanting to collapse. Her anger had served her as a distraction to forget the tears in her eyes.

"Why?" he had asked, provoking her.

She had easily had fallen into his trap. "Because I will not stand for an affair! I am your wife! Do I mean nothing to you?"

She had asked the question he had so longed to answer. This was the perfect time, he had thought to himself, to tell her the truth.

"No."

Her face had fallen at the one simple, yet powerful word.

He had continued, much to his delight. "In fact, you are disposable."

Perhaps he had revealed too much of the truth. He should've left it at no. But then he would've never had enjoyed her crestfallen face in learning the powerful truth.

He became distracted from his memories when a maid rushed in the parlour, bowed her head quickly, and placed her hands in front of her stomach.

"My lord, there is an urgent matter you must attend. It is your wife. She is out of control."

At last, he knew his wife would overreact. Languidly, he stepped out of the parlour and took his time to climb the stairs. There was no rush; no need to react in haste to control his wife's jealous state. He had the time in the world to assess her behavior of late.

The moment his wife had discovered his feelings, his wife had plotted a way to rid herself of Serena. No longer did she care about Darien's intention with his wife. No, she simply wanted to return to her normal, dull life, minus Serena.

Acting sweet toward the queen, she had wanted to lure her away from his home to a casual stroll. But he knew his wife quite well, and the games she played. _Casual stroll_, he laughed at that, startling the maid behind him. He glanced behind him and pondered: Did she consider him a lunatic as his wife?

The look in her eye spoke it all. Yes, she did.

He resumed his pace toward his bedroom, where surely his wife shouted and threw things to the wall. It was the only conclusion he had toward the sound that rang as a loud pound. The maid held her breath, afraid of taking another step.

Was fear that easily provoked that shattered one's will to keep going? He looked behind him and had his answer.

Emerald, his once beautiful wife, no longer appealed to him. Ever since she had returned without Serena that day, he found her repulsive. Even as he remembered the past event, he could not help but curl his fingers into a fist.

He had searched everywhere for Serena, even through the night with only a lantern as a light. He had found her at last, taken care of by a stranger. But he became a stranger no more once he knew who he was.

"Diamond, I thought you would recognize me."

Lucas served as a shadow to the real guise.

He jolted from his thoughts and scowled at being frightened. The room was in a mess when he entered. Pieces of broken vases scattered the ground in a pattern; each broken piece sat on a wet stain; and a few rested in between the stems of the flowers.

He moved his eyes away from the floor to the disarray of the bed. The sheets were cast to a side where they bundled at a corner of the bed. The pillows sat against a wall, one drenched in water from a broken vase.

He then noticed her favorite necklace with the three green gems ripped apart and scattered around the floor in pieces. If she had torn her favorite necklace apart, then there was no doubt in his mind that she indeed had fallen into lunacy.

He finally looked at her standing in the middle of the room, her nails curved and tainted with blood. Her hair was a mess; her face bore scratches. No doubt the blood on her fingertips explained the scratches on her face.

She took a step forward, her arms bended with the nails curved toward her.

"Diamond, why don't you love me?"

He glanced toward the floor and noticed the broken bottle of wine.

"Diamond, look at me."

She cupped his face, wiped his hair out of his vision, and stared into his eye. He could smell the red wine in her breath.

"Why don't you love me?"

He refused to respond. She shook him for a response, forcing him to restrain her as her nails curved dangerously toward his direction.

"Why don't you-you love me!"

Should he remind her again, in this state no less, why he did not love her? He saw no harm in it; she could not hurt him, not even if she tried in her drunken state.

So he said it, once more, "Because you lost my interest. I hold nothing for you, not like I do for _her_," and fought to control her when she went ballistic.

She shouted in his face, "Unhand me!"

Twisting and struggling, she tried to escape from his iron grip. Instead, he twisted her around, back against his chest, arms crossed and held by both his hands. She panted heavily; her hair falling over her face. She could not fight against his strength; he overpowered her.

When was the last time he had her in his arms in this position? He could not remember. Perhaps it was the third year when their marriage began to fall apart that he held her this way, but in a sweet embrace. Perhaps it was the day he had discovered that she could not bear children, and the meaningless sex played a vital role to their marriage.

Nevertheless, he lost his love for her. It wasn't the same as it was before when he used to smile and cherish her and gather her into his arms as he would whirl her around. Back then, he was happy. He could've left her and married another woman as an alternative. But he felt half-responsible for their misfortunate.

She struggled a bit. He tightened his hold around her.

"Let me go!"

He did as she commanded, exhausted of the events happening in his life. And with a twirl on her heel, she slapped him across the cheek. Sometimes it was best to let the anger subside, to forget of the pain, and to forget about his grieving wife shattered over their failing marriage.

But he could not let this moment slide. Not even if he tried hard enough. For once he simply wanted to show her how frustrated he was inside. He felt his blood boil; his anger growing. Emerald had slipped out of the room, stomping her way to the stairs.

He followed after her. She stumbled, unable to find the path to the stairs. Before she took another step, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her back to the room. She fought and scratched his face, acting like a wild animal fighting its captor.

Slapping him in the face the second time, he released her as she ran toward the stairs. He followed her; his rage uncontrollable. With her fingers on the rail, she gripped it for support and took a breath.

"I'm going to tell her! I'm going to tell her the truth about everything!"

He dashed toward her before she took that step down the stairs. With a hand on her wrist, he tried to pull her back, but she fought, like she always did, not wanting his touch around her arm. If she told Serena the truth then he would lose his time with her.

He loved the queen.

He could not afford to lose her.

That's why he had decided to let Emerald go. She stumbled back, and rolled down the stairs. He loudly heard a crack, unsure of what bone had snapped, and watched as she lay lifeless on the floor, her body twisted in an odd angle.

The maid, behind him—he was unsure when she had arrived—gasped and covered her mouth with both hands. He glanced toward her and noticed that most of the residents in his home had witness Emerald's death.

And at that moment he no longer believed that Emerald was the one out of control, but him. For he strode toward them and silenced each one, making sure the truth stayed hidden.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

_Surprise, Surprise_

It had been an hour or so since they sat in the grass, each lost in their own thoughts—until Serena broke the silence regarding her past. The one she grew up in with two parents and an older brother. The type of memories shared between family members, to remember of happier and funnier times, but instead she shared her memories with Lucas.

He plucked the grass and discarded them to a side, like a bothersome speck of dust stuck between his fingers. The late morning air refreshed their sweaty skin as the glare of the sun pressed against their backs mercilessly. It was not a hot day, rather a fresh one, as the breeze cooled their faces with a light caress.

Earlier she had walked into town with Lucas by her side and had sprinted back home when he purposed a game on who was the fastest to return home. Of course, he had won. She had given him the advantage, seeing that he had clutched his side as if a deep pain began to bother him. Whether or not he knew of her generous (but pity) act, he did not speak of it. And instead took the victory with, well, what she presumed was a smile when half of his lip was concealed.

The dress she wore had her hot and irritated; although, it was light. She wanted to rip it from her sweaty skin and walk freely in the cool weather. But it will be unladylike, she had reasoned. Yes, it would certainly be unladylike to do such a thing.

After a long moment of silence, she faced Lucas and finished the tale of her past.

"My brother then left to Cornelia to take care of his wife and child. As for my family and I, we stayed on top of that small hill, until I married and left with my husband. My family now resides in Lunar."

Perhaps he had forgotten that she had turned quiet when the past became unbearable to tell. Perhaps she had extended her period of silence to make him believe that she no longer wanted to speak about her upbringing. Either way both reasons held its merit to explain the boredom in his actions.

He looked around, searching for a new object to hold his interest.

"I sometimes wonder if my family is well," she spoke aloud.

Lucas stood still, caught by a sight. She inclined her head and asked, "What is it?"

He appeared amused. As she turned her head to face what he had seen, he said, "He stares at us."

Far ahead, leaning near the main entrance door, Diamond stood. He appeared disgruntled; he dare not even look at her direction. He then entered his home without a second glance.

Lucas scoffed, clearly amused at his departure. But as she observed him, he was more than amused but satisfied. Satisfied at what? That he left? She did not know. In fact, she felt bothered.

"He's just being protective," she defended.

Yes, he was protecting her, perhaps too much, but he thought of her safety first. It was something Lucas needed to know, but by the look in his eye, he did not care what she thought of Diamond.

Instead he turned her words against her. "Does he believe that I will harm you?"

She firmly denied, "No! It's in his nature to protect me."

He squandered her explanation with, "In his nature to protect you? A friend? I would understand a wife if you held the title."

He sought for an argument; he pushed for it in fact. How she wanted to tell him that Diamond protected her because she was the queen, but her friend had told her that no one should know—not even Lucas.

She calmly stated, "I know countless people who are protective of their friends."

"Really? Elaborate on such person."

"_I_ would protect a friend."

He pulled his gaze away from her and looked to a side, to where the large tree sat with a swing on its branch. She felt her anger slowly die, surprised that she was angry in the first place. She never felt this riled before, not since her husband let her go. In truth, he was the only one who knew how to upset her.

Lucas said, "It's an odd behavior." Her thoughts came to an abrupt rest as she focused on Lucas. He continued, "How did you meet him?"

"He saved me from falling into a trap."

He was definitely intrigued at what she had said. He implored, "A trap?"

"I was traveling in the labyrinth."

"Why?"

The question came off as a demand as if he held the right to know. He certainly did not but she did not correct him. In truth, she preferred not speaking of the memory for she was reminded of her husband.

But she gave in.

"I was placed through a test. Diamond saved my life when I failed to see a trap."

He ignored the fact that she was placed through a test and instead said, "Ah, so he is the hero."

She shook her head. "No, he is more than a hero. He is a good man."

"And you trust him devotedly because he had saved your life?"

Why did he question her every action? It was as if she was doing everything wrong.

"Yes," she admitted, "just like I trust you."

He rolled his head to a side. One of the bandages had slipped and revealed his ruined skin near his neck. It did not bother her as it would another, and no doubt they would've pushed him away—which would probably explain his bad-mannered (and even guarded) behavior since someone surely did push him away.

But she was not like the others. She ignored the disfigured skin.

"You should be careful on who you trust. They are liable to turn against you," he cautiously warned her. She felt her stomach churn in knots. Those words… Where had she heard them before?

Before she even had the chance to question him further, he stood, uninterested in the conversation.

"I should go," he announced.

Serena watched him depart and began to pluck the grass from the ground, never realizing that she had copied his earlier action. It came to her automatically as if the same boredom that assaulted him now assaulted her. But still one fact was for certain, those words, "They are liable to turn against you," were used before by a different pair of lips. The only problem was she did not know who.

She left her spot and headed inside. She ignored the glare sent her way from Emerald and headed into her room. The day continued on, until night arrived and brought in the next day.

She awoke when the sun arose in the distance and the first rays slanted through the window and fell across the floor, reaching the bottom of the bedpost. She left the room in small steps and ate alone in the dining hall. The Lord of the house, and his wife, had already eaten, the butler had said.

Serena glanced toward the door and thought as she ate. This was the third day Diamond and Lady Emerald had not joined her for breakfast. But then Lady Emerald preferred her distance since the incident. As for Diamond, she did not know what kept him away.

Serena glided through each room on the bottom floor with her stomach filled, leaving her satisfied. She went in the parlour and rested against the window as the sun brightened the land with color.

The grandfather clock chimed away the silence for two seconds or more. The hour was nine when Lady Emerald appeared, destroying her peaceful mood with turbulence. She passed the couch, the armchairs next to it, and stood in front of her. She smelled like a rich bottle of perfume mixed with sweet-smelling flower and a strong citrus. Her forehead carried small beads of sweat, most likely from a heavy task or a sprint.

"I hear that you were searching for…" She paused, sorting through the many vile words she had against the other guest in her home—Serena knew for she always called him something different and degrading—and opted to say, "…the forest boy."

Serena corrected her. "Lucas. That is his name."

"It doesn't matter. He is a forest boy, or man, whatever you prefer." She moved her hands as she spoke. "You brought him into my home without an ounce of consideration of how I felt."

Serena wanted to tell her by saying her husband allowed it, but Emerald held up a hand. No excuse was required, she had said, but it wasn't an excuse, more of an explanation to clear her misguided judgment. In the end, her explanation would've ended up in ignorance when Lady Emerald hated her for another reason—a reason that did not make sense.

"It hardly matters." She took a step closer. "Why do you look for him? Is my husband not enough?"

Caught off guard, Serena had little time to think, let alone give a reasonable explanation.

She continued, "Because of you, my husband does not look at me. You rot him with your high, impeding presence, boasting of your purity and the goodness in you."

She certainly never boasted of those things.

"Do you enjoy taking my husband away from me?"

She forced out. "I never took him away. He is a good man, yes, but he is a dear friend to me."

Emerald chuckled. "Will a friend dare kiss another friend and shower them with love?"

Serena shook her head. "It's a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding? I heard his confession," she said, her voice rising with her rage.

"But I do not feel the same way!" Serena shouted.

And in return of wanting to drill into her head a shed of truth, Serena instead received a slap to the face.

"Whether you feel nothing or not, you took him away from me, and I cannot forgive you of that."

She placed a hand over her hot, pulsating cheek. "I did nothing wrong!" She urged for Emerald to see reason.

"Yes, you did." She pulled away and walked toward the table set in between the sofa and the armchairs. She grabbed a bottle of wine—what was it doing there? Serena did not know—and then stared at her through the overhanging mirror across from them. "You lived when you should've died when I pushed you in."

It was a confession, a rather cruel one, of the incident on top of the cliff. For as long as she did not want to believe it, the truth hit her hard. She did not slip that day, she was pushed. She wanted to believe that she had slipped, but dammit she was pushed by the woman in front of her.

Emerald left and soon after she did too. She sat on the swing, rocking her legs back and forth. For some reason she felt unsettled as if someone was watching her. She could not shake the feeling, not even when she threw back her head to feel the sun on her face. Someone was watching her and no doubt in her mind it had to be Emerald.

She needed to escape.

And she did.

Serena entered the small town, looking at the cobblestones at her feet before the dirt path met her eye. She followed the path into the forest in search for a place to escape. But what she really wanted was a place to think in peace.

Could it be that she was at fault for ruining a marriage? It was absurd. But it felt so right to blame herself. In the end it was the guilt that was eating at her mind.

She pulled away from the possible idea and thought of Diamond, the main problem, she presumed, for Emerald's distress. It was true (and Serena would not deny it) that Diamond loved her, perhaps bordering over obsession. He was also quite driven to keep her close, if the dagger incident was nothing to go by of. He held a dark side in him, but she knew he was a good person at heart.

After all, he didn't truly love her. He was locked in the idea that he was. Loneliness did that to people. She simply had to help him realize that and then everything would return to normal.

Hope was misleading, but she believed in it. As a friend to him, it was the least she could do to make a dying marriage work.

But then she stopped in her wandering pace.

What if Diamond refused to see the truth and be lost in his dark lie? What if he pulled out the dagger and threatened her? She never thought of him in a bad reputation before but the incident in his study room did not leave her in peace. She had to admit she was scared of him and his unpredictable behavior.

She should seek Emerald first, make amends, and then… And then what? Force her to _force him_ to love her? And how would she even approach Emerald in the first place when the woman could hardly stand her presence, let alone carry a decent conversation with?

Damn her contradictions! Damn her mind and her reasoning to see the good and the bad! Damn the situation she was in! If only she attempted to stay with Darien, she would've never entered—No! No! That way of thinking was foolish. But what if Darien was bluffing about the guards? No! Darien never bluffs.

She made the right choice.

She knew she did but the right choice felt entirely wrong.

When she returned home, dusk had fallen, taking with it the last bits of color before the world went dark with blinking stars. She walked up the porch, her footsteps heavy against the wooden frame. The house was unlit. Strange… It was usually lit.

She knocked on the door. Nothing. Would it be rude to enter? She was the guest after all. Standing outside alone in the dark did not help the situation however. She reached for the lock and pushed—it barely moved an inch. She pushed harder. It was blocked by something heavy. She pushed again. She made enough room for her to fit through.

But she wished she hadn't entered. A few candles were lit in the house, providing a small source of light but still held an eerie, dark glow. Blocking the door, there was a wooden barrel. Where did it come from? She hardly saw any barrels around the house.

She looked inside and fell to the ground in fright a minute later. In the barrel, there was a horrid sight of body parts, mostly consisting of arms and legs. She swore she saw a gaping face; with one eye bloodied and closed; the other rolled up; with cuts across the cheeks; and hair mantled and splayed in red.

The horrible image did not leave her mind. The face—she believed it was the butler that served her breakfast this morning was who she saw. She was too scared to look in for a second glance to confirm it was him.

She used her hands and feet to back away from the barrel of limbs. Her dressed appeared soiled and wet—she knew what it was for it appeared on her hands in crimson. She raced up the stairs, not thinking of an exit, and stumbled back when she found Lady Emerald dead.

She heard a scream. It could've been her that screamed. Lady Emerald rested in a strange way. Behind the back of her neck, small, round bumps jutted forward. The spine no doubt had snapped.

She had to move; she had to look away. But her legs felt stiff and her mind went blank at the sight of her death. It wasn't until she heard movement above, a thumping sound and a heavy groan, that she sprung on her feet and ran up the stairs to the person in need.

The thumping came from her room.

She walked through the doorway and noticed immediately that a candle was lit on top of her dresser. It provided enough light to see the dead body on her bed. And to her utter shock, as she drew closer, it was none other than Elise the maid.

"Elise!" she screamed but she dare not move closer.

Her stomach was cut opened; blood colored her dress and splattered her face in dots and a streak of red across her cheek. She had her head rolled to a side; eyes opened and lifeless, staring at nothing, while her mouth hung opened. One of her arms rested above her chest, while the other dangled without a hand.

The bed sheets, she noticed, were tossed carelessly on the ground. She kicked gently at them and found underneath Elise's missing hand. It was too much. She had seen too much of death.

Then, without expecting it, a hand grabbed her ankle, startling her. She turned around and kicked the hand away and pressed herself against the dresser. On the ground, a butler laid—she did not know him by name—as he dragged his batter body closer to her. She only moved away, frightened. For how else was one to react to a nearly dead man?

He then lifted his face. Blood covered half his features; and an empty eye socket stared at her.

"You must…" He had trouble speaking. "You must get away," he warned. "You must… get away… from them." It was his last words as death met him afterward. He held on for so long. She got on her knees and took his bloodied hand with both of her own and made a silent prayer in his name.

But she could not stay here for long. She had to get out now.

She scrambled to the hallway, feeling faint. She had to shake away the feeling. Now was not the time to faint.

Up ahead, and to her surprise, the hallway was lit with candles, and revealed a bloody Diamond, holding a soaked, red knife. He stared at the ground for a moment, and then he flashed his eyes toward her.

He made his approach.

She instinctively shut the door. Five seconds in, and he tapped on the door, saying her name in a lovely way. Something scratched against the door, frightening her. He probably wanted to scare her.

"Open the door." His voice sounded lifeless, dead. She did not comply.

He banged on the door. "Open the door," he said in his robotic voice.

"No!" she cried.

She had to be brave but her fear had her jittery.

Another bang, harder than the last, was given, as she grew helpless.

"Open the fucking door!"

She did not know what to do. Her only exit was downstairs. She had to survive. By the gods, she had to.

He slammed his weight against the door, and she knew she had not the strength to stop him. Moving away, she watched as he entered, the candle light casting an orange hue across his wild eyes. He stood there for a while, watching her dance in her nervousness.

He then moved his foot forward, and she broke away from him.

"Why?"

"To make us a future," he said.

She glanced behind her and saw a small stand near the window. There were pieces of broken glass showered in water and roses. If only she was near it… If only she grabbed the glass…

She had to distract him.

"You killed them."

"Some."

She moved closer to the stand.

"We can finally be together, just you and I."

"How could you do this?"

"We deserve happiness. I deserve that. You do too. It will be paradise."

Diamond was so lost in his madness.

"I'm not going with you."

It was the wrong thing to say for he stopped and looked away, and then returned his gaze with a twisted smile. Her body hummed to escape. She felt the stand behind her and grabbed a piece of glass in her hand.

"You don't have to come with me alive. Dead is fine as well."

He approached. Quickly, she sliced his cheek with the glass and made her escape as he writhed in agony. There was little time to think. She had to escape through the door and run into town.

She had to alert someone. But as she came into town, she never felt so alone. She banged on each house door; no one answered. It was as if no one resided in the small town.

"Serena! Serena!"

She heard his voice.

She did not stop. She could not stop. She had to run somewhere safe.

She ended up in a church, not too far from town.

She ran inside (it was bright inside, no doubt from the many candles) and slammed the door. Her heart pumped quickly in her chest and rung in her ears. There was movement behind her. She jumped and turned.

And then… And then it became complicated to comprehend.

Lucas stood in front of her, clothed in a dark fashion, resembling a king. He turned to her and his bandages began to slip, revealing smooth skin underneath. His dark eyes faded into a familiar shade of blue.

She dropped herself to her knees.

"You can't trust anyone in Elysium, for who tells the truth and who tells the lie. You look confused."

"How?" she asked.

"I told you," Lucas said, or rather Darien, as the necklace pulsed and slit through his scar, revealing his true form. "It depends on the user what the necklace holds."

"I thought you only meant the labyrinth."

He crouched down to her level.

"No, I was misguiding you to believe that. But now I must ask you this: who ever said we left the labyrinth in the first place?"

He smiled, his white teeth tainted in blood.

She did not move, nor fight, when the guards came and dragged her away.

xx

Darien watched her go and fell on his knees. He laughed for a moment before he vomited his own blood on the red carpet. Ironic that his blood bore the same color. Andrew quickly came to his side to help him stand.

"Her face… Did you not enjoy the sight of it?"

He felt a headache push against his brain, making him dizzy.

Andrew said, "You almost risked your life. If you had died…"

"I wouldn't have died, Andrew." He looked at Andrew, and he thought to himself, he must look like shit. "Hades won't let me die like this."

"Darien…"

He ignored the concern in his voice and clutched the bloody necklace in his hand. It pulsed with life and grew a dark shade of red. He risked his life to play a cruel joke on his wife. How tantalizing it was to see her exposed and vulnerable.

But yet it failed in the end.

She was still the good wife, loyal and kind, and pure at heart.

_But for how long_, his mind reasoned.

It was time to elicit the final phase.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

_The End of You_

Diamond no longer felt the world in motion but rather he felt time had halted at the exact moment he had come to realize that he had killed his wife. And it was driving him insane knowing that he did such act. He had paced in his room for almost thirty minutes. His fellow servants had sworn to secrecy and would tell the others of the ordeal for surely there will be questions.

There always was. However no matter the amount of questions they would ask Emerald's body must be moved. In fact, the stairs should be cleared now.

He stopped and pondered. Could it really be that easy? His mind had told him no but he had argued against it. He found himself walking—almost running—to his door and into the hallway and toward the staircase.

But he stopped midway and thought about his decision a second time. He felt rather uncomfortable. He did not want to remember his wife that way. Yes, he was hypocritical. For a moment ago she was the out of control woman, not his precious wife as he was referring to her now.

Perhaps it was her death that brought out his emotional, hysteric side. Yes, his turnabout could explain his jumpy character. But why of all time must he think of her as his wife? He could've… He could've tried to love her as much as he did before but… lying to her was the same as killing her.

No, she deserved better.

He ended back in his room again without checking the stairs. But he wasn't alone this time; there the watchdog sat at a corner, royally garbed and trained to stay quiet. Diamond poured himself in the meantime a cup of gin and drowned away for a second the thick tension. And for that blissful second he imagined he was alone away from whatever punishment awaited him in the matter of seconds to come.

Someone entered the room, their footsteps heavy against the wooden boards. He only had to raise his head and stare through the cracked mirror hanging above to know who it was. But he closed his eyes, not caring on the person that entered, and tuned out the screams coming from downstairs and down the hall.

Instead he thought about his sin; then he thought about his wife; until he at last thought about _her_—the beauty in this corrupted world. No doubt she was not nearby. _He _would never enter his home with the Elysium guards. That will only alert his wife of his presence. Knowing him he would want to surprise her.

It was in his nature to fool around like a common jester except he was playing with his wife's emotions. But wasn't he doing the same thing? He too was playing with her when he could've told her the truth from the beginning.

But he will not lie that he also wanted to see the result of Darien's ploy. And that was a good example of why he calmly took his punishment. People like him did not deserve a chance for salvation. But people like Serena, pure and innocent, did not belong here.

If he had the chance, if he believed hard enough in the gods and made a prayer, he would ask for Serena to return home—back to the land of Cornelia. For one way or another, corruption will claim her, whether it be coerced or pushed upon.

And those corrupted could never leave. They would remain here, trapped forever in their prison, until death claimed each and every one of them. And it saddened him that even a crueler punishment awaited him after death, where no deal for a longer chance in paradise could be made.

Might as well enjoy the freedom he has while he was still alive. For it will surely be cut short.

More footsteps entered his room, crushing the pieces of glass and fragments of Emerald's necklace into smaller bits, until they surrounded him, each with their swords pointed against him. There was no passage to escape, not that he was looking for one. He turned and stared at their refined armor ruined with bloodspots, which reflected his hollow gaze. He then stared at the four swords pointed at his direction, each covered in blood.

He almost laughed right there and then. They were all idiots, including him, for acting like royalty. It was like a game of pretend, except they never stopped pretending. They highly believed that they were important. Perhaps they were in their paradise-like home.

It was laughable. It was saddening. But it highly proved how much each one of them craved salvation; although others believed salvation came in fear and games. In deals. In a fantasy. In a land filled with false happiness.

They were the ones that were able to leave labyrinth, to make their god proud, and return home, knowing that salvation lied inside the labyrinth, in Elysium as they call it. They are the accepter, changed into believing that they deserve the punishment awaiting them in death. And they would drag others with them, and send the executioner to those who did not believe in their way of thinking.

That was him. He was the executioner, killing those who did not believe that Elysium was salvation and punishment. But then what had made him change? Was it the last man that he had killed? The one that carried those haunting brown eyes; the same affectionate eyes Serena held, but alas, hers was a light shade of blue.

It could be a coincidence.

Yes, a mere coincidence.

But those brown eyes had haunted him—still haunted him. He remembered how sad those brown eyes had become, knowing that his life had been cut short from saving his little sister. By his side, his mother and father had laid, lifeless, each with vacant eyes.

And the young man, a warrior Diamond could tell, had given him a look of pity.

"Does our death make you proud?" He had coughed blood for a moment. "Does killing those trying…"—he was struggling to stay alive—"…trying to save their love ones leave you satisfied?"

"It is my role to kill those running from salvation."

"Salvation?" He had closed his eyes. "Is this really salvation? Can you really call this land salvation?"

Diamond did not answer. He was not trained to talk to his targets. But he remembered the man struggling to rise and to save the one he called Sere. He had clutched his sword tighter, ready to deliver the final blow, but the man had fallen back to his knees, coughing out more blood.

And it had made him curious. What was so good about his younger sister?

"You will die. That sister of yours will not be saved."

The man had refused to see reason and risen back on his feet, moving forward. And Diamond had simply followed him, watching as the man stumbled and vomited blood. He would not survive for long, but he had persisted, all to see his younger sister.

It was all so pathetic. He should've ended his life but he had held back, admired by the man's determination. But it did not last long. He had fallen to the ground, unable to rise on his feet. He then had crawled, leaving a trail of blood in the jaundice leaves, until he turned, resting his head against the dirt.

He then had said, "What is salvation… to you?"

"Freedom."

"Freedom… Sere would've liked that too." He had closed his eyes. It was the last time Diamond saw those brown, sorrowful eyes. But the man had not died there. He had still clung to life. "…I wonder if she is safe."

"No one in the labyrinth is safe. But if we live in the delusion, the truth is no longer intimidating." He had repeated the same words King Darien had told him when he was given the role of an executioner. He had never known what his king had meant, but he had kept those words close to his heart, as if they held the key to everything.

And it did; only he didn't know that then.

"What a sad thing to say."

"But it's the only way to live." He had sat next to him, unsure of the reason behind his action. It felt like the right thing to do at the moment, but it would later prove to be one of his biggest mistakes.

"Do you really… believe that though?"

"Does it matter what I believe in?" He did not answer. Diamond had looked at him, making sure he was alive. And he was, barely. "Did it matter to you that you will be dying for a lost cause?"

"She's not a lost cause." He had paused, taking in a shallow breath. "She's what I call hope; hope that one day… all of us… will live together again."

He was regarding his sister as a symbol, in a way to move forward. And he would've kept on going, with his family behind him, had he not intervene in his plan. Then, out of the blue, the man had returned to attack his earlier statement, saying: "I would rather face the truth than to live a lie. For how long will that lie, that false happiness, last?"

He had not made sense. What was wrong with living in a lie?

His words had left him bothered.

And with his last remaining strength, the man had whispered the name of his love one, "…Sere."

Somehow, with his death, he did not feel satisfied. In fact, he had wanted to know the reason why he had to kill them. For they were not of this land—he could tell on the marks on their backs—so what were their crimes?

So he had sought out King Darien to resolve his inner turmoil. But upon his presence, he had grown silent, unable to face the man as equally as he did today.

Darien, as he remembered him, had sat on top of the rail, overseeing the mystical land. At times, Diamond had felt that the land would revert back to its original form, a maze of torture. But it had been more than ten years since Elysium appeared. Perhaps it really was as Darien had said: Please the God of the Underworld and happiness will be yours.

But it had made him wonder, why could they never leave Elysium?

As he had returned his gaze toward Darien his doubts had disappeared, for his king had brought them this happiness, a false happiness as the young man had described it. And maybe he had not been wrong describing it as such.

"And so the pure remain untouched and given a freedom a tainted would beg for. Such is the way of life for those corrupted."

In his gloved-hand, Darien had a rose. And with it, he had twirled the stem and had enclosed his palm around the red bud; until the petals had fluttered down; toward the torches below and into the garden.

And Diamond had asked, "Who were they?"

But his king had refused to tell him. It was none of his concern in the end. Still he had never felt such disappointment of not knowing who his last kill was.

"So what now?" he said aloud at the present moment in time. "Will you really drag her to our fate?"

"She belongs here."

"Is that really the best reason you have of keeping her here?"

"It's the best reason, a rational one."

"How is it rational?" Diamond gritted, stepping forward.

The guards automatically went to a battle stance, pressing the tip of their blades against his chest. He knew what that meant. He was pressing his luck.

"You failed me, Diamond. You should've kept the deal."

Diamond smiled. It was the only thing he could do in a situation like this. He turned to pour himself another drink. He knew what was coming. And he was prepared for it.

But before he took his last drink, they had grabbed him from behind and had forced him to his knees. He looked around and caught eye of the watchdog. The dog gave a faint smile and mouthed the words, "You can still be saved."

And it was true. He could. He just needed to corrupt Serena. But he couldn't.

His head was sharply pulled back by the roots of his hair; it stung and bothered him as he rendered into a hiss. His punishment came in a black slug—the knowledge of truth they had called it—as they forced his mouth opened and placed the dark slug inside.

He had tried to fight it by whipping his head. He had even refused to swallow it. But it made its way down his throat, almost suffocating him as it did, and planted itself in the pit of his stomach. And no doubt the black ink would spread throughout his body through the arteries until it reached the center of his brain.

But the pain! Oh, the pain! How terrible it felt!

He clutched his stomach and brought his knees close to his chest and groaned to his discomfort. He even screamed, wishing for the pain to stop. He needed to think of something, anything for the pain to fade away.

So he thought about the past again and tuned out the world around him. No doubt in a couple of hours he would have an expressionless face and carry out his true desire. For he had seen it before when he had done the same treatment to some of his victims; and how they had lashed widely in pain; until they had changed into silent creatures and had showed their true colors.

He wondered what his true color was.

But he did not want to think about that. Instead he thought about the nightmares he had before, of the faces he had killed. What was wrong with him? What had changed? When did everything around him begin to convert into nightmares, rocking his mind with regret?

He never felt regret before. So why did he feel it then?

Maybe it was the moment he had come in terms with reality after dreaming of the young man for weeks. Maybe it was the moment he saw a piece of the truth in a distance, of where the lost kingdom laid. And never had he noticed it until that day, on the third of January, of the place he had thought he had forgotten.

How long was he stuck in his fantasy? For how long, he had questioned. How could he forget about the labyrinth so easily? It was this wretched fantasy that was corrupting the truth.

Did he truly believe that this world could hide its true form? For technically, it was the labyrinth, but the God of the Underworld had concealed it with a land similar to the one below; to hide away the fact that their punishment would be worse when they die. And why was that? Was it because they had refused to believe in a god? Or was it because they had traded their misery for a false freedom?

"Acceptance is the cure to paradise," King Darien had said.

"But it's a sham, a lie to the truth," he had argued. "What good is living in a false paradise when a cruel punishment awaits us in death?"

He had thought that if his king had seen the truth as he had that they could try to break free from their curse. But by the look in his eye, King Darien had begun to distrust him, enough to even send a heated glare toward his direction.

And all Diamond could think of at that moment was why.

"You are ill," his king had said. "Go rest."

Diamond had scowled and had grumbled, "No, I am not ill." And then he had raised his voice into a bellow, "I refuse to bask in a lie."

And it was the truth.

King Darien, from that moment, slowly had received his hatred. He, the man who brought a false paradise to their home, had basked in the lie and highly believed in cruelty and revenge. For this is what it was. He had wanted revenge against his parents, for using him, for ruining him, for bringing him misery and shattering his happiness.

So why was he, along with the rest, being dragged in his revenge?

"Why should others have a happy life?" Diamond had overheard him say once to the watchdog.

And the watchdog had simply remained silent for a moment until he had made an oath, "Whatever happens, my lord, I will follow you."

"You will leave the moment you kill her."

"No. I will stay by your side. You have my word."

But as for Diamond, he had enough of living in a lie. So he had approached the king in mid-June and had said, "I no longer wish to be the executioner."

And instead of killing him, as he had originally had thought his king would, Darien had smiled. That itself was a strong sign that something had changed in him. Diamond had a strong desire of knowing, another mistake he would soon regret.

So he had listened to the deal that would release him from his duty.

And it was simple.

"Corrupt her, and you will have your freedom."

It was too simple to be true. But King Darien's last words to him had left him angry.

"However, I forbid you to fall in love with the woman."

As if!

Darien had made it seem that he would but he would prove him wrong. Instead it was _him_ that was wrong. He had fallen in love with the pure-hearted woman at first sight. And he despised himself that he did, but not only at himself, but at her as well. For on her back, she carried a mark, similar to the man he had last killed. It rattled him looking at it. Because of him, because of that man, his world had changed.

He had thought of hiding it with pearls but she never wore them as much as he had hoped. He thought he could ignore it but he had enough of its sight that he instinctively threw a dagger at her when she presented her back. So, yes, it was intentional. And, _yes_, he knew what he was thinking.

But he didn't mean to push her away.

He loved her too much to lose her.

She was his long, lost hope.

And he couldn't deny it.

No, he will not deny it any longer; that those eyes of hers were more than just a coincidence. She held the same expression as that man. And Diamond highly believed that she was the little sister that man had cried for before he had struck him down.

When he woke from his memories, he was in a cell, resting on the cold floor. He had made the mistake of sitting up in a quick jerk. For in a second, he was on his knees, vomiting black on the ground, and perhaps he even vomited blood. He stopped for a moment, relieved that he did, and noticed the small slugs moving in his vomit.

They curled and uncurled, and repeated the process once more—until they ceased and began to evaporate into a green liquid.

Horrified at the sight, he continued to vomit for a moment longer, ridding himself of the slugs inside. When he was done, he was weary and exhausted. He rested his head against the ground and closed his eyes. And gradually he began to dream of Serena, sitting on a swing, as she threw her head back with a smile on her face, her hands holding tightly on the rope.

But the sweet dream didn't last. In a second, he began to dream, the same old dream that haunted him months ago, of the man struggling to find his sister, who also destroyed his false happiness, his lie.

"If only I never knew the truth...," he mumbled. "…I would've lived in content."

Yes, indeed. He would've been like the rest of them. But it was too late for regrets.

When they announced his sentence the next day, he wasn't surprised when the king had decreed death. In truth, he already knew what his king was planning. He only hoped that Serena did not fall for it.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes<strong>: Going on vacation; won't be back until August 26.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

_The Fire that Tells All_

It had started with a flame—until it grew out of control, beyond her grasp to maintain.

It was for good intentions, not vile as the people suspected. It was a sacrifice for the gods. Through her lover's death and their acceptance, she would have her freedom from this condemned prison.

It was so easy. So simple. That her mind had been deluded with visions of freedom.

She had ignored her lover's screams and anguish. She had ignored the feeling of hands pulling her away from his burning flesh as a charade of knights rushed to his aid. She had ignored the frantic rhythm of her heart until it consumed her, shattering her indifference.

That's when Raye had realized she had made a mistake.

It was a regret that will live with her until death. Never would she forget his eyes, so filled with certainty that her wish would be granted.

He was such a foolish man in love with a believer—but he was a good man nonetheless. He didn't deserve to die the way he did. He deserved so much better than what she could offer. Yes, indeed, he was a foolish man, such as she was a foolish woman in believing that the gods will set her free.

Now she was stuck in a marriage with a general no less. She hated every second of it—yet at the same time she loved him every minute of the day. By one simple glance, he could make her heart race and her stomach flutter by the sight of his handsome face and sardonic smile.

He did not care for her—she knew that. She did not care for him too. But she found his presence a necessity that she could not imagine a day without him. It was a flaw in her part. She had fallen to the will of man.

But no longer!

She will use her gift to free Serena.

The fire may have misguided her in the past with her lover's death but it never lied in foresight. Just this once, she will do this for Serena. That she could at least promise to Lady Mina.

Lady Mina…

Now was not time to think of her.

She shook herself of those thoughts and concentrated at the task at hand.

"Oh, Great Fire," she called, "show me the path to free Serena."

With her hands clasp in prayer, she closed her eyes and listened to the crackles of the flame. It was at the moment, when the fire felt hot against her cheeks, that she felt a serenity engulf her. Slowly and slowly her body felt light—until she felt nothing but the pull of her soul being dragged in the fire. And in an instance, she felt the eerie sensation of life transcending quickly around her.

Her eyes opened and she was aware that she was in a realm of where the past met the present and the present met the future and vice versa. She waited for the fire to guide her to the future. Instead it took her to the past, of a place she hardly found important.

However, the fire did. She had no choice but to see what it was trying to show her.

In a garden, similar to the one in the lost kingdom, grew many flowers—roses, tulips, daisies and many more that her eye could not recognize from the distance. The castle looked different then. It was beautiful, majestic, nothing compared to the one she was previously staying in.

This was the old kingdom that she remembered when she was young. This was a time where everyone had lived in peace and not in a chaotic manner they acted today. Certainly, this was a time she would return to, if given the chance.

But something happened for the peace to end.

In the corner of her eye, a faint light twinkled under the sunlight. Her soul floated toward the source and she saw a necklace similar to the one Darien carried around his neck. In fact, it was the same necklace.

So entranced at the sight of it, Raye was barely aware of the soft footsteps approaching.

"Peculiar," a voice said behind her. She knew who it was and turned around to confirm that it was indeed Queen Constance. The queen drew closer and took the necklace from the ground, engrossed at the sight of it such as she was a few seconds ago.

"I never seen this before," she whispered. Raising it to the light, she said to a maid nearby, "Rachel, do you know anyone who lost a necklace?"

"No, your highness," Rachel replied with her head bowed and hands held together in front of her apron. "In fact, as far as I remember, no one here has ever worn a necklace as beautiful as that one."

"Indeed it is beautiful," Constance said, still engrossed at the object in her hand. "It is quite beautiful…"

In an instant, the kingdom faded, leaving behind a hypnotized queen entranced at the necklace in her hand. Raye's soul jerked violently to the transgression of time. She howled in pain, unaccustomed to the fast change of scenery.

Suddenly, she stopped and was tossed into a realm of where she never imagined being.

But as her eyes took in the pristine buildings and the golden towers and flowing waterfalls, she knew that she was not dreaming. It was beautiful, perfect for the beings that lived here. The images that she conjured up as a child were nothing compared to what she was seeing at the moment.

Still she was in disbelief.

For she stood in Mount Olympus, of where the mighty Zeus resided, the same god who had punished them and had sent them to their prison.

The fire was guiding her again.

Away from the majestic buildings, she entered a dark area, of where fire brightened the cave. Tall and mighty, a god, an ugly one at that, smashed his hammer down and created a small trinket that her eye could not see. He laid the hammer and placed the tiny object in his large hand.

"Hephaestus," a voice called.

Hephaestus walked lamely toward the voice and handed the trinket to another man clothed in white robes. On top of his head, Raye noticed a winged-hat sat on his blonde locks, and on his feet similar wings was attached to his golden sandals.

The man tossed the trinket in the air. "My, my, you perfected a beautiful gem; perfect for the traitors."

Hephaestus pulled away and headed back in his domain.

"I shall visit again with another task. Until then, I bid you farewell."

The man flew away and her soul followed behind.

In a court, for that was what she imagined it to be, stood twelve golden chairs. She stopped in the middle of the room and felt a powerful fear grip her. In front of her, a mighty god sat with an armor that no human could recreate. And at his side, a woman sat, back straight and hands resting against her stomach. Her hair was held back in a bun with jewelry that would make any mortal woman jealous.

"I urge you to reconsider."

Her voice—how Raye shuddered at the sound of it—was worldly, soft, and different from the many voices she had heard in her lifetime. Indeed this was a goddess.

The man from earlier appeared before the god and handed him the trinket. He bowed his head and disappeared in the air, never returning again.

Then the air was consumed with a benevolent force. She whipped her head around and faced a gruesome god. He walked, strident in his steps, his cape billowing behind him, toward them. He stopped before the other god and glared at the woman beside him.

"The humans must be punished."

The woman did not falter from her stance, even as the man sent a terrifying glare that spooked Raye to the core. "They are merely humans, Ares. Allow them to live in their fantasy of where gods do not exist. What can a small group of humans in compared to the thousands that believe in us do?" She turned her attention to the other god. "I say you reconsider your punishment, Zeus."

"You may as well align yourself with the humans, Mother," Ares spat.

His mother turned her attention toward her son. "I do not align myself with no one, Ares."

Ares took a step toward his mother but Zeus interfered with a thunderous voice that consumed the quiet realm. "Enough, Hera! My decision has been made!"

With a wave of his hand, he summoned another being into the court. Raye glanced at the man who had entered. He was different, handsome, but held an eerily glow to him. She felt his aura through the fire and she pondered at the sight of him.

His aura was quite similar to the one who guarded their prison.

"Helios—your orders."

_So this, _she thought_, is the infamous Helios that guards our lands; the one who kills those who escape. _

Zeus stood from his throne and approached the kneeling human—or so she thought. Certainly, he appeared human, but immortality ran through his veins. It was no doubt, with the way Zeus affectionately touched his cheek, that he was another consort that pleased the great god.

"Deliver this to the queen that rules their land."

It was no trinket that dangled from Zeus's hand but a black-chained, ruby necklace that Raye recognized far too well. Helios brought his hand to Zeus as the mighty god softly laid the necklace in his palm.

"Once her eye falls prey to its beauty, the evil shall manifest and consume every one of them. Their freedom will never come. Those born with corruption will stay in the lands of the labyrinth."

"And those who are not corrupted can leave when desired," Hera contributed to the conversation.

Ares spoke after, "So let it be a lesson to all humans alike that those who disobey will fall." He chuckled darkly. "Their freedom has come to an end." He looked at his mother and added, "No one shall escape corruption."

Hera closed her eyes, no longer fighting against her husband and son. "So be it."

And Helios took the necklace and transformed into a hummingbird. Flying toward the lost kingdom, with a tremendous task that will change her life forever, he entered the garden of the castle and dropped the necklace on the soft grass of where the queen could see it.

Raye blinked and allowed a tear to roll down her cheek. "Why are you showing me this, Oh Great Fire?"

It responded with another image that of the executioner striking down a man and a woman. And soon after, a younger man, a warrior by the look of that, followed afterward. With the task completed, the executioner looked troubled. He had prolonged the death of the young warrior and had listened to the words he had to say.

And as far as she could tell that was enough to change the executioner's mind of what he did was wrong.

The scene changed abruptly.

On a rail sat Darien with a rose in his hand. He crushed the petals to the ground and spoke of meaningless words about corruption and death.

The executioner spoke, "Who were they?"

He was beyond curious to know of the people he had killed.

But Darien did not satisfy his quench of curiosity and simply said, "No one important."

With a wave of his hand, he sent the executioner away. Alone, and crushing another rose in his hand as the petals glided down to the garden below, he whispered, "Serena—I kept my word. Your family is safe."

Raye, unable to understand, silently turned away.

"Serena?" She looked back at Darien. "Was that Serena's family you killed?"

But Darien did not respond. Instead a violent wind took her soul far away from the balcony that overlooked Elysium. Again, she traveled painfully through time. And when time stopped, she fell, cheek smacking to the ground. Slowly, she forced her head to look up.

She had little time left to see the last event, considering how weak her body felt. Forcing herself on her feet, she walked limply to the door in front of her. Inside, she saw a glowing Serena, staring out the window. She was beautiful and aged into a mature woman. With a white dress, and her back exposed, she looked like a goddess, with her hair tied with jewelry.

But in a second, Raye crumbled to her knees and witness with fear at the sight of her stomach.

She was carrying a child—Darien's child.

This no doubt was the future to come.

"I want to see my family! You promised!" Her voice echoed against the walls. It sounded strained, filled with so much pain. She appeared exhausted and beyond capable to stand on her own two feet.

The pregnancy was taking a toll on her.

"You should not stress yourself, my dear." Raye glared at her king as she heard the mockery in his tone. "You are carrying our child."

With an inhumane scream, Serena fell to her knees and sobbed heavily.

Pulled away from her broken queen, Raye returned to the present. She gasped when a powerful pain assaulted her body. Collapsing to the floor, she dare not move, for she feared that she will scream if she did.

The fire grew dim.

Raye watched as it diminished into smoke, leaving behind burnt wood. She slowly sat on her knees, fighting against the horrific pain. With a bow of her head, she thanked the fire for revealing the truth to her.

"The Great Fire never lies." Raye gasped and struggled to stand against the man who intruded her room. "I wonder why the gods had blessed you with such gift—or should I say misfortune."

"Andrew," Raye said. "What do you want?"

"I came to warn you." He walked toward her, hands behind his back. "You should be careful of what you are about to do. Consequences will come."

Raye glanced at him. "Will you stop me?"

Andrew shook his head. "That is not my place." He offered a warm smile. "I can never harm you."

Raye let out a low humph. "I will do what I must do."

And before she had the chance to reach the door, Andrew grabbed her by the wrist, twirling her around to face him. Pressed against his chest, she stared straight into his eye.

"Raye, please. Reconsider what you are about to do."

She pulled against his restraint but he was not willing to let her go.

"Unhand me! I will not allow her to suffer with us!"

"But it will happen eventually."

She stood still, uncaring that her wrist was painfully hurting.

She dared not look behind her shoulder. But he appeared in the corner of her eye until he consumed her vision with his sight. Andrew had released her wrist as her husband caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers.

"It seems you have not learned your lesson."

She was breathing heavily now. Not only was her body racking in pain but her heart was painfully thundering in her chest. She watched as her husband pressed his forehead against hers.

"Raye… My beautiful, Raye…" He played with her hair. "You will not tell Serena a word of whatever you saw."

In that instant, she pulled away.

She will not succumb to him any longer.

His chaste beauty faded into an ugliness that revealed his evil soul. With his true appearance showing, she did not fall prey to her emotions.

"I will tell her everything," she said.

He smiled at her determination. She stood her ground when he pecked her cheek, and prepared herself against his intentions. For behind his smile laid a trap ready to break down her strong will.

But she was ready.

"Will you also tell her of Lady Mina?"

However, she was not ready for that.

Her determination faded into pure panic. She shriveled away from him and dare not look in his eye.

"She is not important to mention."

Raye tried to sound calm, indifferent; however, her voice reeked of regret and terror.

Jadeite drew close again and ran his fingers through a piece of her hair. "No—of course not. After all, what good is mentioning a death of a woman she hardly spoke to?"

Facing him, she quivered and denied the soft accusations behind his words with a shake of her head. "I did not—No, I had to save her," she reasoned.

"By killing her?" he asked. "Is that your way of salvation?"

She covered her ears, trying in vain to ignore him. But his words entered her ear and plagued her with regret. Soon after her fear began to fade as a deep hatred took over her.

"I had to! You ruined her!"

It was no lie.

Indeed they broke Mina until she accepted their way of thinking.

Raye crumbled to the ground and thought of what she had done.

Mina had thrown the bait for Serena to take. It was only a matter of time before Serena would question Darien of the necklace he carried fondly around his neck.

Raye had warned her of saying too much in front of the maid. But Mina had not listened, not even when she had barked her name to remain silent.

Her dear friend was determined to save Lady Serena.

When she had been summoned by her husband, she had a growing suspicion that Mina will not hesitate to speak freely in front of the maid. If it wasn't for her husband who had summoned her, she would've paid close attention to Mina and remind her of the fourth unwanted presence.

Instead she had to endure to her husband's cuddling and brash kisses.

And when he had left, she had to calmly return to the room, no matter how much she had wanted to run back inside.

"You should be careful of what you say, Mina. The maid could speak to Darien of your conversation," she had told her after Serena had left to her room.

But Mina had simply laughed, not taking in account the danger she was bringing upon herself.

"She will keep her mouth shut, I assure you. We played our part quite well, my friend. She will not doubt us."

Raye had trusted her words. But it did not happen as they both had preceded.

It was a month or so when the queen had left. Raye had not seen Mina for several days. She had grown worried for her friend and had questioned her husband of her whereabouts. But he had refused to say and had pushed her away.

Then, on one morning, she had appeared. She had resided in the parlour and had her eyes set outside the window. When Raye had entered the room, she had noticed the cuts on her arms and had felt a great preoccupation descend upon her heart.

"Mina…" she had called.

She had taken a few steps toward her.

"Mina…"

She had stopped near the chair and had tried to get her attention. And when she finally had her eyes upon her, she had felt her preoccupation ascend to fear.

"Raye, do not fight it," Mina had said, "Fear… Death… It will all fade away. Happiness will finally be given to us."

She had tried to pull away from her but Mina had grabbed her by the wrist and had stared at her with wild eyes.

"What have they done to you?" Raye had whispered.

"They showed me the true path." In her free hand, Raye had gasped at the sight of the short blade. "Do not avoid what lies before us," Mina had continued. "We shall all accept our punishment."

She had struggled against her when Mina had raised the blade above her wrist. With a glass vase in reach, she had no choice but to smash her head against it and use the broken shards to silence her—until all that was left was a splatter of blood and a corpse at her feet.

"Lady Mina had believed in the truth. Something you still avoid, Lady Raye."

Returning to the present, she looked in the eye of her king.

"When the necklace was handed to me, I saw a glimpse of the past," Darien said. "I knew the necklace had brought evil to our land. I knew that man had fallen prey to a worthless trinket. However, I accepted it with open arms. But all of you were ungrateful. Instead of embracing our punishment, you all moaned and begged for a chance to escape. You did not learn your lesson at all. So I took matters in my hand and brought what you all have craved."

He crouched before her. "Freedom… Something you should have been grateful for."

"Grateful?" Raye questioned. "I rather be punished by the gods than to burn in Tartarus."

"Ah, yes." Darien cupped her chin. "We mustn't forget our paradise is a delusion."

"Why are you doing this?" she asked. "Is it because of your parents? Or is it because you want all of us to fall with you?"

He grinned. "Should not the people fall with their king?"

He was delusional, mad, and he knew that. There was no point in reminding him as Raye watched as he stood on his feet and head for the door.

"And what of Serena? Will you let her suffer?" Raye shouted.

Darien stopped for a moment and glanced at her direction. "How can I release what was given to me? She is my treasure, and she will always stay by my side, corrupted as me."

Raye forced herself on her feet, using the chest, near the foot of the bed, as support.

"I will set her free! You will not keep her!"

Her king only chuckled and retreated from the room.

How she wanted to chase after him and kill him with his sharp blade—instead she was forced on her knees and held captive by the guards and her husband, the watchdog. The advisor stood near the door and bowed his head toward her. Leaving the room, he left her alone to brave the punishment that awaited her.

"I will miss this hand."

Jadeite lightly touched her left hand and pecked each finger.

She watched as they pushed a round table near her, kicking aside the chair in the process. Forced on her feet, they stretched her arm against the table and waited for her husband to act.

Even through the heavy circumstance she was in, Raye was not afraid.

His sword was drawn as it shone under the moonlight. He laid it against her wrist and brought it above his head. With one glance toward her, he gave her a wicked smile.

Raye still was not afraid.

"Even if you cut off my hand and torture me, I will set her free."

Her husband laughed. "I can see why I kept you alive for so long."

She ignored him, knowing far too well that he kept her alive to enjoy her misery.

"Mark my words. I will set her free," she repeated.

He only grinned. "I doubt that."

In a blink of an eye, her punishment descended in a bright splash of red and silver.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

_The Hummingbird and the Dark King_

It was such a blessing being comforted by the quiet stillness of the air. There was nothing to bother him; nothing to shatter his peaceful state. It was just him and the silent room and nothing else.

That was until a tap broke the silence, disrupting his mood. Darien could've ignored it but the tapping became persistent. He slid his eyes toward the source. Outside the window, a hummingbird fluttered side-to-side, waiting for an entrance. Its black, beady eyes stared directly into his dark azure.

In fact,_ he _was demanding for an entrance.

Darien had no choice but to allow him inside.

With the lock released, he pushed the windows out, allowing the little creature to fly in. As he closed the windows, the hummingbird became still. He turned to face the creature, only to find a man, kneeling on the ground with his head bowed.

"Helios," he addressed. "What brings you here?"

"I'm growing impatient."

Darien sighed.

This was not the type of conversation he wanted at the moment.

"I always keep my promises."

He strode past the kneeling figure and headed toward the balcony doors. Helios followed after him, one step at a time. With his hands on the balcony rail, he stared out in the distance, taking in the landscape of his domain—if he should dare call it his own.

It was just a fabrication, nothing too grand about it. He personally did not care for the land or its inhabitants but with Serena by his side his life would be far more pleasing.

Helios approached him from behind, encircling his arms around his neck. The dark king stiffened at his touch, but slowly he relaxed and reminded himself that it was part of Helios's mannerisms.

He felt his hot breath near his ear.

"Do you regret it?"

_Relax._

"No," he forced out.

_Relax._

Helios rested his hands on his hips.

"I'm glad to hear it."

But Darien could not relax, not when his hands began to roam downwards. Quickly, he pushed him away and gave him a glare.

"I apologize." Helios bowed. Though the apology sounded sincere, Darien kept his distance. "Sometimes I forget that you are not a god that I have to please."

That sounded more like a lie. Darien knew Helios far too well. Either way, he stood a few feet apart, keeping a watchful eye on the broken man. The man in question took his place and placed his hands on top of the rail.

"Patience is not my best trait," he declared.

"Then learn patience," Darien threw back at him.

It was obvious that he was still angry from before. He had made it intentional that Helios learned that his advantages would not be tolerated. And it seemed the mystical man understood clearly but still he approached teasingly.

Helios was pushing for a negative reaction. Darien swore that if he dare touch him he would snap and punish him for his defiance. If only the dark king could see that Helios desperately wanted what he so desired; after all, patience was not his best trait.

"I suppose my biggest fear is for you to lie to me."

He took a step closer but stopped, not continuing his advances.

"I told you I keep my promises," he sternly reminded.

"Of course," Helios agreed—though it was still clear that the man did not believe the dark king. "Still the thought does not leave me. Your wife is still barren."

"I'll take care of that after the execution," Darien said.

He turned away for a second, taking in the land once more. No doubt the labyrinth would be covered in a thick fog at this hour. He remembered in the time of his youth traveling through the labyrinth as a white mist blinded him of sight.

Darien truly believed that he was about to die that day.

However—

"There is another alternative."

—Helios appeared before him just in time.

Darien turned to face him as the man cradled his face with his hands and leaned close to his lips. Pushing him away, he laid his hand around his throat, squeezing it to block the air pathway. Helios was not afraid of death or pain. In the swirl of his eyes, Darien could see what he wanted.

Death.

"That will never happen." Darien released him. There was sorrow in his eyes but the mystical man hid his sadness behind an impassive veil. "I've told you before and I'll tell you again: you will never have me."

Helios smiled and bowed his head. "Of course. Your daughter will be fine enough."

He stepped away from the dark king and began to shift into his form. But before he did, Darien closed his eyes and said to him, "Did they break you enough and turned you into a whore?"

Helios knew what he was referring at.

"That and much more," he answered.

In a glow of light, the man shifted back into his cursed form and flapped away into the night toward the domain of where he laid. Darien watched him go and remembered the first time he met the hummingbird known as Helios…

xx

…They had said that every night—when the fog was thick enough—that the Dark Lord appeared near the River Styx, a river that none dared seen. Of course, there were tales to frighten the children but Darien had highly believed in such tales and ventured into the thick fog, looking for Hades.

Though, it was a mistake.

He could hardly see through the fog, let alone know where he was at. Desperate, he began to formulate a plan to survive through the cold air. He found a makeshift bed under a willow tree, enough for him to rest from the night. But the coldness had bitten through his skin that not even the fire he had made kept him warm enough.

Exhausted, he simply wanted to close eyes and stay asleep forever. Yet there was a sound that kept him awake and drew his attention enough to lure him out in the open. He followed the sound, more like a tune being strung on strings, and found an open area with no fog in sight.

In the small opening, a man sat on a flat stone, playing a harp. The tune, with a sweet introduction, had fallen into a sad tempo. Darien, intrigued by the man, carefully made his way toward the harpist.

He was close enough to take in the image of the mystical man. He was enchanting, with his locks cut near the nape of his neck. His skin was pale due to the lack of sun—although Darien believed that the man was pale because of that reason. And garnished in white clothing, the man appeared to have descended from the sky.

He certainly seemed to appear godly.

Distracted by his appearance, Darien did not realize that he had fallen into a trap.

The vines began to slither its way in the fallen leaves. Caught by the sound, the little prince turned in time to find the vines wrapped around his ankles. He slipped and banged his head against the ground. The vines dragged him to the trees as the branches twisted him around and held him in the air, trapped.

He struggled to escape but managed to cut his arms through his struggling. Blood fell and tainted the earth with his presence. Stopping in his attempt, he glared at the mystical man, who had stopped playing his harp and had approached him.

The harpist opened his eyes and stared directly into his own.

Darien felt trapped under his gaze and could not look away. But eventually the man blinked and cast his harp to a side, more like summoning it away when it disappeared in small bulbs of light.

Silence.

Darien knew he had to speak first.

"Who are you?"

The man smiled and cradled his small cheeks.

"I am not important."

"You do not have a name then?"

His fingernail trailed down his cheek toward his throat and to his heart. Darien was not afraid of what awaited.

"I do have a name but it is not important." There was sorrow in his eyes. "I never killed a child before."

Darien clenched his hands. "I'm not going to die here!"

The man, surprised at his outburst, took a step back.

"I won't die here! I will see the Dark Lord! You will not stop me!"

Again there was silence.

But this time the man broke it first.

"You are different. Nothing compared to the others." He cradled his cheeks once again. "Pure with a malice intention—I can take away your sorrow if you just stay with me…"

Darien growled at the man, not caring how lonely he was. "You will not have me! I don't care how lonely you are!"

The man pulled away, summoning a curved blade. With a sad smile, he cocked his head and whispered, "Of course… Who would want to stay with a filthy creature?"

Pointing the blade to his heart, Darien felt no fear but hatred.

He shouted, "If a companion is what you want than you can have my future daughter!"

Surprise took his handsome features.

"A child would be worthless to me anyway," Darien continued.

The man lowered his blade, still in disbelief. "You would willingly give up your daughter in exchange to see the Dark Lord… You are desperate."

"Yes, I am." The two were quiet for a moment until Darien spoke, "Do we have a deal or not?"

The man smiled. "Helios."

Confused, Darien stared at him.

The man explained, "Helios is my name, and I shall follow you until the end." There was someone else with them. Darien could feel their presence and surveyed the area. "Lord Hades has heard your prayer—"

Distracted, he returned his attention to Helios. "Prayer—I did not give a prayer."

"No, but he knows what you want," he clarified. "And he will grant it to you." He swiped the blade to a side. "And so shall it be that the guardian would fall and follow the young prince to his demise." He pointed the blade toward his small chest. "But they will not die but stay alone until the day a woman crosses their path."

He looked into Darien's eyes and gave a sincere smile. "Until that day, you will never be satisfied with what you have until she comes to you—but even then happiness is too late."

"I don't understand your gibberish," the little prince said.

Helios shook his head. "It is not gibberish. It is what is bound to happen." The branches held the little prince tighter and drew more blood from his wounds. Helios continued, despite the pain on the young boy's face, "As a servant to Lord Hades, he requires a sacrifice."

The pain came swift before the little prince could blink. Darien lurched forward and spewed out blood. In a haze, he saw Helios's face covered in droplets of his own blood. But Helios did not care if his face was dirty.

Not when he held his heart in his hand.

xx

Darien gasped and held the rail for support. His heart throbbed in pain that he clutched the fabric of his shirt, pathetically trying to reduce the pain. It was a futile attempt, of course, but he somehow felt better knowing that his heart was still beating in his chest.

He did not know what happened afterward. In fact, when he awoke, he was in pain and in bed, with his mother by his side, shedding tears.

For a while, he had believed that he had simply dreamt of the encounter. But when he had undressed and saw the scar on his chest, it was clear to him that his encounter was far from a dream.

Darien closed his eyes and stared at the land before him. With trail of blood falling from his lips, he grinned and showed the world his bloody teeth.

"You will all burn."

Slipping away from the balcony, he cursed the land into oblivion and made his way toward his beautiful wife.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

_Betrayed_

"Have you nothing to say?" Diamond continued to stare at the ground. He had ignored Andrew since the moment he arrived. In fact, he wanted nothing to do with him.

Pressing closer to the cell, he could see the lacerations on his chest, a few wounds still dripping red. His hands and feet were chained to the wall; his shirt tattered and thrown to a side. His face bore small cuts as a blood drop trailed past his eyelash. Diamond looked up for a second, only to return his attention back to the ground.

"Diamond, please talk to me."

"What's there to talk about?" His tone fell flat, confirming his exhaustion. The guards had him up all night, disallowing him a moment to rest until now. But Andrew was selfish; he demanded to speak to him even as his friend was falling asleep.

Andrew gripped a cell bar, attempting to get closer. The cell door was locked—the guards had locked it—so there was no way for the advisor to enter unless he acquire the key. But even if he did retrieve it, Darien would've disallowed him from entering. Still the distance soothed his mind, knowing that his friend was still alive. Though, for how long, Andrew wondered.

"You can still be saved. King Darien—"

"I don't give a shit what Darien wants from me," Diamond shouted, startling his friend by his aggressive tone.

Silence—until the advisor spoke, quietly, calmly, "So you prefer death?"

"I prefer a place where I won't see your fucking face," he spat at him.

"You disappoint me, Diamond."

"As if I give a fuck."

"Emerald would've fought for your life," Andrew reasoned.

"But Emerald isn't here now, is she?" Diamond angrily threw at him.

Again the silence drifted in between them. It shattered with a sigh as Andrew took a step back away from the cell. "You could've lived a long life. We could've traveled the land and change people's lives. We could've been happy as we were back then."

He allowed his words to sink in, giving him the chance to make the right decision. But Diamond disappointed him again when he cursed him to hell and thrashed against his restraints. "You can live in that fucking fantasy, Andrew."

Andrew turned away, hiding his rage from his friend. Stupid idiot—he was a stupid, fucking idiot. He knew not of the mistake he was making. This was his only chance from being killed. But the fool would rather die than stand by his side.

Retreating away from the cell, he bid goodbye and never looked back. The next time he would see Diamond it would be at his beheading. But Andrew did not want to think about that, not when he had other tasks to complete. More importantly, he had to see Darien.

Andrew headed back to the castle, with no clear destination in mind. He was still enraged at his friend's decision. Why couldn't that fool accept his offer? Just thinking about the situation that occurred moments ago was giving him a headache. He then stopped and stared at the painting to his left. It was the same painting that resided in the lost kingdom, except this one was the original.

The painting consisted of a man impaled by a spear as the heavens parted to the god of Olympus. On the man's naked torso, black hands, the souls of the underworld, rested and dragged him to his fate. He touched the painting, circling the fire of Tartarus below the man's feet. He knew the tale behind the painting.

In fact, he remembered Serena asking him once, "Why is it so important to Darien?"

It was akin to a familiar question that Lady Mina had asked him once about why he had accepted Darien's deal. And to be perfectly honest, he simply wanted comfort for his parent's death; although he had found the comfort in the wrong person, that he'll admit. The thought of revenge came afterward. But from what he remembered, he never did answer Serena's question. And that was because it wasn't his place to explain.

It was not a secret of some sort. It's just he really didn't like explaining things to her without Darien's consent. But if he did have a chance to explain it to her, he would tell her that the painting resembled his king and the betrayal of Zeus as the god struck him down with a spear—the spear representing their punishment—and forced him to seek Hades.

This was what the gods had wanted in the end. For it all began because of a single man refused to worship them, and in return the gods had punished him and the rest of his followers. But the people were happy. Even as they struggled to survive, they were happy. Hence, the gods were angry and created a precious jewel.

After all, if they had refused to believe in them—the gods—than why should they have happiness when they seethed in rage? It was better to force them to believe in one of them than to allow others to follow.

"Staring at that again?"

Andrew looked away from the painting to gaze upon Jadeite. He held a feral grin with droplets of crimson scattered across his face. His clothing was ruin, his gloves as well, as a dark crimson stained his navy uniform.

"She is still alive if that's what you're thinking."

The advisor looked away. "I'm glad to hear that."

Jadeite slapped his back in passing and gave a short laugh. "As if I'll kill her. She is quite entertaining to have around."

Andrew watched him leave as Jadeite shouted from across the hall, "Tell our king that the task is done and that I'm off to deal with the rest of the traitors!"

The message was heard, loud and clear, that even King Darien had heard him as he entered the hallway and stood by Andrew's side. Bowing to his king, he awaited his orders.

"Come."

It seemed like everyone was somehow covered in blood.

His king had blood around his mouth, evidence that he was spewing it out or so he imagined it to be the reason. However, Andrew did not voice his concern. He knew his place. Following after his king, he said, "If I may ask, where are we heading?"

King Darien smiled. "To see my wife. I've delayed our meeting for far too long."

Yes, he certainly had.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

_Queen of Mine_

Serena grew tired of waiting.

A maid had come to inform her that her husband was about to see her in a moment or so. To leave a message like that, she truly believed that she was a simply a guest of no value and not his precious wife. More like a cur than a wife to be exact with the way he treated her.

Darien had locked her in her room for days now. The basic necessities were provided at least but the outdoor freedom was stripped from her. She sat on the windowsill, absorbing in the outside world, watching the clouds block the sun from time to time, until eventually the sun lit the ground with life.

The light entered through her bedroom window, creating patterns on her skin. She looked away when the sun became too hot on her face and turned her attention to the door. Her husband, to her surprise upon seeing him, watched her silently.

She felt a war inside of her.

From anger to sadness to humiliation and hatred, she didn't know how to feel when she saw him. So she forced herself to stand on her feet and walked toward her bed, trying her best to ignore him. She sank down into the mattress and listened as he strode toward her.

She didn't want to see his face but he came in her view, leaning against the wall and stared at her. She returned his impassive gaze and waited for the eventual explanation. But time continued on, driving her insane at the precious seconds lost.

She gradually lost her patience and demanded, with a hint of hatred laced around her tone, the reason.

"Why!"

Silence—until he moved away from the wall, bended his knees and laid his head on her lap. She stiffened at the contact as he placed his hands behind her back, digging his fingers in her skin. She held up her hands, unsure of where to place them. But gradually she lowered her hands and laid them below her breasts.

A wisp of his hair caressed her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. He moved his head, raising it up and staring at her with his dark eyes. She remained still when he grabbed her hand, kissing each finger and then sucking each one, leaving a gleam of saliva to her observant eye.

His hair hid his eyes when he lowered his head and kissed her breast, with the fabric in place, of where the nipple laid. He stood up from his knees, spread her legs apart and stood in between. He pushed her back against the bed, staring at her from above, and slowly he bit the tip of his glove-finger and pulled each one with his teeth.

With his hands free of gloves, he discarded his shirt to a side and then grabbed her hand as he glided her fingers against his stomach, up his chest and to his shoulder blades. He lowered his head, once again, and kissed her.

Through her lustful daze, she felt a hot liquid in her mouth. She panicked and pushed him away, swallowing the bitter taste of blood. He gave her an innocent smile and brushed away the blood that slipped from his lips and landed on his chest.

Serena tried to slip away but he held her down, dripping blood on her white-jeweled gown.

Darien said to her, "Relax, my queen. It's just a drop of blood. Nothing to alarming."

"Get off of me!"

He narrowed his eyes and held her tighter by the wrists. Though the pain was unbearable, she gave him the most vicious glare and cursed him to hell. He simply kissed her neck and whispered in her ear, "Don't fight it. Just feel it."

"I don't want to feel anything! I want the truth!"

"The truth?" He turned his head to a side. "Why would I ruin our moment with idle chatter?"

"I deserve to know!"

He pulled his head away and stared at her from above. His hair slipped past his ears and touched her face with a light caress. He gave her a smile, revealing his precious, white gems, ruined with a streak of blood.

"Yes, certainly you do," Darien agreed, "but at another time. Let's not ruin our moment."

He resumed his place near her neck, kissing down her throat to the gown that obscured her breasts. He would've resumed down further, if she had not demanded a kiss, agreeing that the moment should not be lost. He returned his face where her lips laid and began to descend to claim her mouth.

But she gave him something else—something brutal that left them both in a daze.

He released his grip from her wrists and pulled away from her. Touching his forehead, he felt a headache of where she slammed her forehead against him. He watched her roll to a side, groaning in pain, but managing to leave from the bed to gain some distance from him.

When she looked at him, Darien lowered his hand from his forehead to grin—only that grin opened wider when he laughed and stood on his feet, stalking toward her. She grimaced and took a step back until the back of her heel touched the furniture behind.

With a glance, Serena noticed the vase he had brought her months ago, filled with freshly, cut roses. She didn't give it a second thought and threw it toward his direction. And to her disappointment, he moved to a side, cursing his reflex, as it shattered behind him, sending each glass piece to a different direction.

"You missed."

Serena ignored his taunt and moved around the room, searching for a next object to use. Only she found nothing to reach, and instead looked at the door, planning her escape. Darien seemed to notice her intention and intercepted before she bolted.

Thrashing against his restraint, she was carelessly tossed on the bed as he settled between her legs, with one hand securing both wrists. He was close enough for her to spit at him but he simply rubbed away her saliva with amusement.

"You're angry," he said matter-of-factly. "Whatever did I do?"

"Stop playing with me," she demanded, "just tell me the truth!"

As much as she wished she could control her emotions, she felt a tear escape from her eye and fall to a side. Her husband took noticed and dipped his head toward her face, kissing them away. His actions only fueled more tears to fall.

"Stop," she pleaded.

And for once he listened to her.

"So you want the truth?"

"Yes," she said. "I deserve to know."

"And what will you give me in return?"

He still continued using his gimmicks. Serena turned to look away, not wanting to follow through his charade. He poked her on the breast, receiving an immediate reaction. She scowled and narrowed her eyes, trying but failing to move against her restraints.

Sometimes she hated that Darien possessed the strength of a god.

"How about I spare your life!"

Darien laughed.

"An amusing thought—" He caressed her face with his dirty hands. "—but I have a better idea." He then released her wrists and settled comfortably between her legs. "I want an answer."

"An answer?"

"Yes, that is all I ask."

"And what is—"

He cut her off with a finger to her lips. "You'll answer it in the end." He removed his finger when he noticed that he held her vast attention. Good—she should be listening. "I will answer your question," he said, "but don't ask me to move." He gave a smile, almost innocently. "I actually quite enjoy feeling you."

Serena hesitated to answer. Either she agreed or he simply refused to tell her anything. So, in the end, and to her loss of dignity, she nodded her head.

"As long as you keep your hands to yourself, I don't care."

It was unbearable to speak those words but Serena held an impassive stance, not wanting to lose to his superior personality. When he heard those words, he instantly gave her kiss, tasting for a second the strong taint of blood.

Darien pulled away and trapped her in between his arms. He stared at her from above, and she, hopelessly, looked at him from below, taking in those dark orbs.

"What is it that you want to know?"

"Everything," she quickly said.

He chuckled for a bit, amused at her eagerness to know the truth. Still he toyed with her, not wanting to share the insight of his mind so easily. "Like?"

She had tried to concentrate on a proper question but the man had managed to _literally_ take her breath away. She gasped again when he rolled his hips against her sensitive private.

"What is it that you want to know, Serena?" She felt his hot breath against her ear.

He did it again, slamming his hips harder this time, and gliding his hands to her buttocks and thighs. He managed to convince her—though she blamed herself for being caught up in the act—to wrap her legs around his waist. He rubbed his erection against her sensitive bud and drove the clear message that he wanted more than to answer questions.

She could feel the pressure his thrusts. In fact, she could feel his fingers slip underneath his dress, aiming toward her throbbing… She opened her eyes when she realized that he was taking this too far.

"You won't touch me unless I have my answers," Serena reasoned.

Darien stopped, having accomplished his intention, and easily pulled away from her. "I have your word for that."

She fell into his trap, ashamed that he managed to trick her. A breath escaped out of her, cursing her stupidity mentally. She dared not look at him. She dared not think of him. Instead she sat up in bed, pulling down her dress, to his annoyance, and watched as he grabbed a chair from nearby and planted it front of her.

"What is it that you want to know?"

She still refused to look at him and stared at her lap, dwindling with her fingers.

"What's going to happen to Diamond?"

"Is that what you're worried about?" She heard it in his tone of voice—he was displeased, angry, perhaps even surprised that she mentioned him. He gave a light chuckle, hiding his rage behind his mirth. "He's not important."

"I know what he did was wrong but I care for him," she explained, trying to reason with him. But he didn't care when he looked away and narrowed his eyes. "I want to know, please."

"Do you love him?" he questioned.

Taken back at his sudden question, she stuttered, "N-no."

Darien hunched in his seat, smashing and rubbing his hands together while staring at her.

"Do you want him instead of me?" She was speechless. He continued, "For a night, of course. As much as I hate the idea, I'm willing to share you with him, just once." He angled his head, his dark eyes glistening. "Just say the word."

Serena stood up from the bed. "I don't want him."

He raised his head to look at her, still sitting in his chair, hunched and hands together. "But you can have him—the option is there."

She slapped him across the face, reaching her limit. Even she, with the gold of patience, had snapped. Especially when it came to infidelity, more like giving her behind away, that he openly suggested.

"I don't want to sleep with anyone."

He smiled as fresh blood spilled down his chin, where the previous one, now dried, laid. "So you want me instead? I'm pleased." He looked at her then, not bothered by the blood dripping down his chin. "The executioner, however, would be displeased."

Serena felt confused but mostly enraged. "Executioner?" she questioned.

He put on a grin. "So you do not know of his past? Well, then, allow me to explain." He rose from his chair. "Diamond is, or was, my executioner. He killed for me, you see, to keep those in line. That is not to say one could not leave. They merely had to return, a problem for most."

He closed the gap between them, his tall stature towering over her.

She said to him in disbelief, "You lie?"

"I gave you my word," Darien said, moving a strand of her hair away from her cheek. "Why should I lie now?"

In his face she saw sincerity. But in her mind she was blank.

"But—" She tried focusing on what to say. "—you said was?"

Serena looked at him, searching for a confirmation.

Darien played with her hair and then brought her closer to him, embracing. "He couldn't handle death anymore, not as well as me."

When he mentioned death to her, she snapped from her daze and pushed him away, yet still not comprehending. It was practically clear in her face.

"I want to know…" Although, she did not know exactly what she wanted to know. Darien appeared to notice and took the moment to caress her cheek. And by the look on her face, she was not bothered by his touch but rather on the fact she knew nothing of what she thought she knew. "…Why did you do this to me?"

"Look at where you are, Serena," Darien answered. "Don't tell me you don't know?"

He cupped her face when she tried to look away.

"You know the answer. Don't deny it."

She certainly did; though she was still unsure. Or maybe she was in denial since she really did know why with the obvious hints being thrown at her. And as the truth became unbearable, she finally spoke, "Because you want me to become just like you."

He gave her another smile, lighter than the last.

"Yes." He dug his nails into her face as she grimaced and stared into his dark orbs. "Yes," he went on, "that's exactly the reason. I want you to fall along with me. It's what couples do—fall together as marriage binds us to do. However"—he frowned—"you can always leave. I won't stop you this time."

With the way she stared immensely at his face it was as if she was searching for a ruse. He stepped away from her, motioning his hand toward the door. He had to prove to her that it was no ruse in the end. And after seconds past, she came to believe him, like so many times before.

She took the first step, slowly and uneasily, with doubts still in her mind. Doubts that confirmed her suspicion when he stopped her from taking another step, saying, "But would you leave your family behind knowing that they cannot go with you?"

She returned her attention to him, eyes wide with realization. He gave her a moment to take in the dilemma until she quietly spoke, through the tense air, "I want to see them."

Ignorant as he was, or so he pretended to be, he watched her demeanor change, placing her hands on his bare chest, screaming, "I want to see them!"

He purposely evaded the question by saying, "And what of Diamond?"

She did not understand. "What about him?"

"Would you let him die if you knew that I was the one who caused his demise?"

Serena took a step away from him. "What do you mean?"

She was breaking apart. He could see it in her expression that the surprises were becoming too much for her. Still he did not stop, not even when he called Andrew in. He watched as his advisor entered with a jar in hand. And although the glass was covered in black liquid, the slug was evidently inside when it moved gradually around its restraint, leaving behind a light green trail.

Darien turned to Serena, whom became quiet upon seeing the snail.

"They say if one were to swallow a black slug their inner desires would be revealed." He trailed a finger down the jar when Andrew stood close. "It's quite fascinating what the River Styx can create."

He could tell, judging by the expression on her face, he had to clarify a bit more. So he continued, "If a slug were to nestle in your stomach, you will experience excruciating pain, enough for you to pass out. And then your body would act out your wish. In this case, Diamond was quite keen on taking you with him."

"But if you hadn't given it to him"—she said, comprehending at last his implication—"then he wouldn't have never killed off those people. He would've never killed Emerald."

He chuckled a bit. "Emerald was actually killed by his will."

"What?" she questioned.

"He wasn't going to lose you," he answered.

She lowered her gaze to the floor, pondering. As she locked herself away in her thoughts, Darien turned to Andrew and motioned him to leave. The advisor bowed his head and turned toward the door, with the jar pressed tightly against his palms.

"And you, Andrew?" His blond companion held still. "Why did you deceive me?"

Andrew turned to her.

There was a draft of silence, with him casually looking between husband and wife. He kept silent, mostly because he did not want to speak to her without Darien's permission. But Darien gave him a smile and questioned his silence. Alas, a confirmation. He settled his eyes on the queen.

"I have my reasons, though deceit is not one of them."

She stared at him, waiting. Although, what was she waiting for? For him to explain that he purposely laid out a map for her to remember, the map being a recollection of his own past? Did she want him to tell her that Darien had devised a plan to keep her here forever? Or a simple explanation, a much-needed realization to her, that her family was dead?

And although he wished to tell her everything he knew his place. His eyes met his king, allowing a small smile grace his lips. It was a silent message, simply stating that he would never betray his friend.

Darien returned the smile, understanding.

It was true. He did not lie to deceive her. More like he was being loyal to the one that provided comfort, and she was not that person. But as he looked at her, watching as she stared at her feet, he would've had to admit, if she had never left the castle, perhaps he would've followed her to end.

And maybe that's why Darien had been afraid of her at first. Serena was more than a pure-hearted soul. She was… definitely different, that's for sure.

Andrew bowed his head and excused himself.

Serena watched him exit.

She was left alone with her husband, still rattled with heavy thoughts. He broke the silence with a sigh and felt his gaze rest upon her.

He said, "Do you still want to save me?"

She had forgotten about her words that day she left. She had forgotten how desperate she had sounded on wanting to give him a life that he was meant to have. In all honestly, she felt rather sad that he lived his life in hate, but mostly she wanted to save him for her own want and to see her family once again.

But the plan never came to be when he made her leave. Still she would've at least tried to change his mind. But as she traveled through the labyrinth, and stayed a couple of days away from him, she came to realize that saving him was not meant to happen.

Rather he was too corrupted for her to save him. There was absolutely nothing she can do. Now it wasn't about him but about her—well it's always had been about her and her family. She had to get out of here with her family. Yet the thought of having to choose between Diamond and them left her reeling.

She did not want the man to die; although, he lived a life of a murderer. She merely wanted for him to live his life and perhaps start anew. But it wouldn't be the same between them. No, it wouldn't be the same.

She returned to the present, leaving her thoughts behind, and said, "There's nothing to save anymore."

Darien drew in close. "No, there isn't."

"What will happen now?" she asked.

"You make a choice."

She looked at him, drawn to his lack of expression. "A choice?"

"Who will you choose, Serena, and who would you save?"

It was at that moment when she understood the meaning of his words. She took a step back, taking in his evil smile, his erect posture, his lack of empathy. He appeared to her then as an evil being like the dark lord himself.

And she felt in her heart a very familiar feeling, the feeling of fear.

"I'm not playing this game."

"But you must." He angled his head, lips spreading wider, revealing a glimpse of his teeth. "Either you chose or you lose both of them."

"No."—She shook her head harshly.—"you can't do this to me. You can't be this cruel."

"But I am." He took a step forward. "I'm a man who murdered for his mother. I'm a man who gave his life away to punish others. I'm a man who murdered his father for the sake to please one." She gasped at the news. He kept going, "I'm a sinner, I'm a killer, why, I'm Hades himself. After all,"—He stood in front of her, resting his lips near her ear.—"this stage had already been set. My purpose in life was to punish these people, such as Zeus had wanted. "

He withdrew from her, walking back, a small step at a time. "Still I never presumed that you would enter my life." He stopped in the middle of the room. "You are the one good thing that brightened me. You are my Persephone."

He turned, heading toward the door. "Make your choice, queen of mine. For in two days, the execution will take place."

Darien left the room, locking the door behind him, as his wife crumbled to the ground, pondering immensely on the decision to make.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

_Night of a Full Moon_

Diamond had little strength to look at her. Still he managed to lift his head and stare at her. It only caused more blood to spill in between his vision, trailing down to the tip of his nose and dropping to the floor.

He probably looked terrible under the candle lights—even his stench must've been unbearable. If he wasn't chained to the wall, he would've properly cleaned himself up, as best he could, just to look presentable to her. He felt humiliated that she had to see him this way.

Serena crept closer to the cell, a hand reaching and then wrapping around the cell bar. He almost felt for a moment that she was reaching for him. But he knew she probably wasn't, not after what he had done, even though the crime was hard to remember. He knew that she did not care for him. Maybe she even resented him.

He lowered his head in shame.

He expected that she would leave, now that he wasn't looking at her. But she remained where she was, never looking away. It surprised him that she stayed but he felt content.

The flames licked the walls with an orange hue glow, casting shadows against the stones. He could hardly make out her face, especially when she lowered her gaze to the ground. But he imagined that she still held her innocent smile and tantalizing blue eyes under the dark hood of her cape. He hoped that she could stay that way after his death.

From a distance, the dungeon door opened. He heard the harsh footsteps against the tiles, as the loud rattle of keys played in the air. He glanced to a side and found a guard, in pristine armor, stop and bow his head to her before he stood against the wall, eyes set straight ahead.

Of course, Darien did not trust him alone with his wife.

Diamond sneered.

What was his king so afraid of?

Certainly, Darien did not think that he could take her away. Or perhaps he was afraid that he would influence her to escape. If a chance was present, he would create a distraction, merely for her. If Darien was holding her prisoner, he would give her an escape—if only he held a chance, however, if only.

She blew away the silence with a sigh.

Diamond was acutely aware of her hesitation. He could only see so far in the dim-lighted room that he strained his eyes to see the solemn expression she carried. She turned her head and stared at him, dreading the beginning of a one-sided conversation.

It's not that he wouldn't have gladly talked back. But at the moment he felt too weak to speak, added to the fact that he was parched. If it wasn't for the pain humming in his veins, he would've peacefully fallen asleep to ease his torment.

"Diamond," she said.

It was nice hearing his name fall from her lips.

He leaned his head forward, his strength diminishing.

"Is it true? Are you really the executioner?"

He heard her through his tired state and raised his head, moistening his lips to speak. But his confirmation came out as a sluggish, hoarse reply. He doubted she even heard him. Even without a response, she continued to tackle him with questions, such as:

"Why did you do it?" and "Why didn't you tell me?"

She wanted to know the reasons behind his every action, about Emerald, about his feelings toward her, and his role of being the executioner. Instead she hardly gave him a chance to respond—not that he tried to speak up. In fact, he got caught up in his own little problem, such as trying to stay awake.

She was growing frantic.

"Diamond," she called for him. She said his name in such sorrow that it broke his heart to hear her shattered. "I don't know who to trust anymore." It grew quiet until he heard her sobs break through the silence. "I don't know what to do."

The last thing he heard before the darkness claimed him was, "I don't want to choose."

When Diamond awoke, hours later, he was on the ground, flat on his back. He turned his body to a side, hissing through the pain transmitting throughout his body. Across from him, Darien sat, his back against the stone wall, watching him with a smirk.

He narrowed his eyes and turned his body, placing pressure on his forearms and then hands to rise in a sitting position. He pressed his back against the wall and took in a deep breath. The candles shone brighter than usual. It swayed and danced with the shadows, even glooming Darien's dark attire.

They remained in silence, each observing the other.

Diamond then noticed, at the corner of his eye, a jug of water nearby. It was mostly Andrew's doing, bringing him meals and drinks. He doubted his king cared enough to give him such things. Still, even though he disliked Andrew at the moment, he took the jug of water and quenched his thirst. It felt nice having the cool liquid run down his parch throat.

But what Diamond hated the most was the stare he was receiving from his dark king.

The dungeon door creaked open. Diamond narrowed his eyes as two guards came down the small steps and pass his cellar, with a prisoner in between them. The prisoner, or rather Raye, turned her head to look at him. And with a simple glance, she moved her feet and ran to his cellar, screaming, "You must tell her!"

The guards were upon her, dragging her back to her cell. She thrashed and screamed, "Tell her the truth, Diamond! Tell her!" Her voice became an echo in a distance.

Diamond hardly knew what or who Raye was referring to. But somehow he felt that it was about Serena. _Tell her the truth_, he thought, _but what truth do I have to tell? _His thoughts was cut short when Jadeite appeared, bowing before his king.

"My apologies, my lord."

Jadeite placed a hand above his heart and gave another curt bow. Turning away from the king, he glanced at Diamond and gave the tiniest of smiles.

There was something about Jadeite that Diamond never liked about. He always felt that his temper was annoyance to deal with but now he knew that it was his arrogance which he despised the most. Jadeite carried a big ego that Diamond wished back then that he should've deflated it. Now he had to hear the conceit in his voice of how superior Jadeite was to him.

And that was mostly every day when Jadeite reminded him of his superiority. After all, how could Diamond forget when he was present at each of his beatings?

Jadeite headed to where the guards went with his wife. Diamond was, once again, left alone with his dark king. Sitting up straighter against the wall, he waited with anticipation of what Darien had to say.

And it began with a simple confession: "You will die at the rise of the sun."

He was no longer afraid of death but he would never admit, not to his king, that he was afraid for Serena. It was that thought alone that made him lurch in fear of what would happen after his death. And thinking of her made him fear of dying, knowing that he would leave her behind.

Still he impassively replied, "So I will."

"Have you no regrets?"

Diamond refused to answer. For in truth, he did have a lot of regrets, most of which he could never fix. But that was a matter that did not concern Darien.

Darien easily moved on, uncaring if he received a reply.

"What did my wife tell you?"

Most of what Serena told him was difficult to remember. Not only that, he had passed out before he held the chance to hear the rest of her dilemma. And as he thought about her, he wondered if she truly mentioned anything important.

If only he could remember.

Darien coughed in his hand. It was clear that he was still weak from his last ploy. Blood trickled down his chin until he wiped it away with the back of his hand, smearing the crimson against his dark glove.

Diamond gave a short chuckle. "You still have not recovered."

Darien raised his eyes and grimaced. "I suppose pushing my body to the limit was a grave mistake. Still it was worth the effort to see her crumble like that." He smiled amusedly at the memory.

"It is a pity you did not die."

"To you, perhaps." He moved his hair out of his face. "But to Hades, I'm not finished."

"Finished with what?"

Darien shook his head and rose on his feet. "It does not matter. Not to you, anyway." Closer, he came to the cell. "You should worry about who Serena would choose."

Diamond slowly rose to his feet, clutching his side when it throbbed in pain. "What do you mean?"

With the orange hue touching his features, Diamond felt his stomach flop at the sight of Darien's dark, menacing blue eyes. If it wasn't for the shadows and candle lights contrasting against his features, he would've easily dismissed his fear. But he could not lie, that even in a brighter room, he would've still been afraid.

Darien prolonged his answer. It was bugging him to know what choices Serena had to make. And noticing his preoccupation, Darien shattered his silence and easily announced, "Serena has to choose between you…" –Darien hesitated to tease him—"or her family."

Diamond was shock.

He said, "But her family is dead!"

"And how do you know that?"

"Because the similarities…"—He envisioned the young man's face—"…were exactly like her own. Those tender eyes…" He gave his king a glare. "It had to be her family of whom I killed! I know it! Why else would you order me to kill people not from our territory? Or did you forget the mark on the back of their necks?"

"So you notice." Darien lowered his eyes, and then raised them, with a smile attached to his lips. "I will not lie to you then, not when you will die tomorrow. Yes, you did kill her family, but she knows not of this."

Diamond felt his stomach drop. He had expected something entirely different. He had expected for Darien to use his life to keep Serena from leaving him; instead not only was using his life but he was also using her dead family as a choice to stay by his side.

One way or another, she would be forced to stay. Diamond had to tell her the truth! But before he began to plan, his hopes was crushed when Darien revealed his intention.

"How do you plan on telling her?"

Diamond ceased from giving him the satisfaction of showing his surprise. Instead he glared, with a sneer on his lip.

Darien shook his head, his dark locks swaying. "It does not matter." He turned toward the exit, saying as he went, "It's not that you hold a chance to tell her." Exiting from the dungeon, he mumbled to himself, "Nor the sight to see her."

Diamond felt a slight panic rise from the pit of his stomach and dry his throat. The dungeon door opened with the sound of more footsteps approaching. Squeezing his side, he noticed from the corner of his eye, Jadeite appearing, pulling on a leather glove.

Jadeite then looked at him with a smile. And Diamond knew that his chances of telling Serena would never happen.

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**A/N: **Just to clear up any confusion, and I hope I do not contradict myself, Serena does not love Darien. She cares for him. She wants their marriage to work since her goddess is Hera, and she believes in marriage, but she came to realize that what's the point of saving a marriage if one did not change? So, to put it clear, she cares for him, and wants to help him, but she does not love him.

Darien loves her, but not the way one would love another. He loves her because she represents what he could not be. There really isn't love in this story. It's just more of fabrication of it, not the real deal.

You could say, Darien is trying to dominate her, but at the same time, if he does manage to make her stay with him, he wouldn't want to dominate her as much anymore. Why? Because she's there with him. That's all it matters.

Really, what this story is about is the tragedy of how these people tried to live their lives in freedom, away from the gods, only to fall in deceit and live in misery. There's more to it but to cut it short I'll tell the rest of it at the end of the next chapter.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

_Goodbye, Elysium_

There was silence in the beginning. But it shattered in a matter of minutes when the crowd took their place around the stage of where the execution would take place. Serena held her breath and closed the curtain, unable to face the inevitable.

Yet she looked again, watching as a General Zoisite took the stage, silencing the crowd with one hand raised. Behind him, his wife, Amy, sat, with her eyes closed, back straight against her seat. It was the first time Serena laid her eyes on her. Their introduction was short—and to her pleasure, Serena was glad that it was.

She did not have time to chatter when her mind was elsewhere.

"Today," Zoisite began, loud and strong, "we witness the death of Diamond Lars."

Serena gripped the curtain tightly in the palm of her hands.

"He is found guilty of treason, of betraying the public and our king." He paused, letting the crowd shout their displeasure. He raised his hand to silence them once more. "Traitors are not welcome here. This is a place of tranquility and freedom, not of regrets and pain. This is a place where we stand united as a kingdom, not alone seeking the demise of one another."

The crowd chanted, raising their voices to praise the General and give disdain toward Diamond. Serena lowered her head, tears pooling in her eyes. Her friend did not deserve this. Not at all.

Then the crowd erupted with cheers when King Darien took the stage. She examined him from head to toe. With his usual attire of black, he wore a leopard cape around his shoulders and a golden crown on his head. It shined under the sunlight, revealing the dark navy stones.

General Zoisite bowed his head and took his seat next to his wife.

"Bring out the prisoner."

In chains, the guards dragged out Diamond, with a sack over his head. They took him to the center of the stage, forcing him on his knees. And to a side, a man in leather, with his face covered in a mask, appeared, brandishing the heavy sword. Serena looked away and shut the curtain behind her.

Andrew approached and bowed his head.

"It is time, your majesty."

Serena shook her head. "I don't want to go out there."

Behind, she heard the crowd shout in glee when Darien announced the queen. Serena could not move. She refused to see Diamond, beaten and broken, and eventually watch his head roll off his body. But Andrew did not wait for her to adjust—not that she would ever adjust to the situation that was happening at the moment—and instead grabbed her and pushed her forward.

She stumbled and regained her footing. This was it. She had no choice but to join her husband's side. With one sandal forward, she strode across the stage, her dress flowing back to reveal her slender legs. She grabbed her husband's hand and looked toward the crowd.

They cheered loudly.

Turning her back, she followed her king up the small steps toward their throne. It was difficult to sit when her legs were stiff. But she held her composure and watched Diamond silently.

Zoisite took the stage and addressed the crowd, listing off the many crimes Diamond committed. Most of them were lies, including the part of where Diamond kidnapped the queen. Darien really wanted the people on his side, not that they weren't already.

Darien leaned toward her, whispering in her ear, "You should smile more."

She glanced at him, taking in his deep, blue eyes. Slowly, she returned her attention to the crowd, half-listening to Zoisite's speech.

"I have nothing to smile for."

Sitting ahead of her, a little to a side, General Kunzite turned his head, impassively regarding her. He looked away when Jadeite whispered in his ear before chuckling afterward.

Darien pulled back a strand of her loose hair and placed it behind her ear. She jumped at his touch and looked at him immediately. He gave her a smile.

"Not even for your family will you smile?"

Leaning forward, with her palms pressed against his arm, she whispered, "They are here?"

He refused to answer and looked toward Diamond.

"Do you know why there is a sack on his head?"

She did not answer and pressed her back against her seat.

"It makes his death easier for him to accept."

Serena looked toward her lap, squeezing her hands tightly together.

"You can still save him," Darien continued. "Just say the word and he'll be set free."

But she knew that it was not easy as he said. Darien was not the type of person to make things easier for his victims. In fact, he enjoyed their misery. No doubt he enjoyed having her helpless. Still she held her hope that Darien would change his mind. As she looked at him, staring into his eye, her hope vanished with a struck of reality that he wasn't going to.

"But my family—"

"They will stay here," he informed her in haste, interrupting her sentence.

She bowed her head, praying to her goddess for aid.

"So who will you choose?"

She raised her head, staring into his eyes when the first shot rang through the heavy crowd. The bullet struck her in the stomach and again above her breast. On the tower, above the crowd, a man jumped on the steps of the castle wall and swung his blade against a guard.

She heard his voice, although faintly, "Free Diamond!"

"It's Sapphire! Kill him!" It was Darien's voice that spoke.

The crowd dispersed quickly when a rain of soldiers, friends of Diamond, appeared, killing anyone on sight. Darien had disappeared from her side. She fell forward, hitting the steps with a groan. Raising her head a little, she moved her legs, trying to crawl her way toward Diamond.

But she grew weary and halted in her approach. The pain numbed her senses, making her eyes heavy from the blood loss. And in the crowd, she saw her family, smiling at her and calling her over. Sammy looked at her, and to her happiness, his wife and child stood by his side, calling her name.

She took in a painful breath.

Sammy approached and crouched in front of her, with a hand, palm up, waiting for her own.

"You comin'?"

She shut her eyes for a moment from seeing Sammy in a haze, and then reality came crashing down when Darien laid in front of her, bleeding from his wound. He looked at her, mouthing the words, 'Together we fall'.

She took in another painful breath and then… she felt nothing.

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**Notes**: I had so many changes for the ending. One of them consisted of Serena choosing her family and the other killing herself. But I felt unsatisfied. I didn't want Darien to have what he wants. And I didn't want Serena to die either but this ending was bearable I guess.

I know Sapphire appeared out of nowhere. Well, it was a surprised attack, and Diamond was a figure a lot of people respected. So it's only obvious that a fight to save him will ensue.

This plot was inspired by reading into the Greek Gods. And, one day, I decided to write about how this group of people tried to be free from worshiping them. In response to that, the Greek Gods were angry and punished them. So I wanted to show how these people are through the eyes of Serena and through them as well (Darien, Andrew, and so on) of how each character had a mission to complete.

And, really, all Serena wanted was to go back home with her family. There was a part where she thought if she could save Darien she would have her family in return and give Darien the life he deserves. But that failed.

Originally when I first wrote this I had it centered on the Labyrinth with David Bowie. I also had a beauty and the beast theme going on as well. I didn't realize that until a reviewer told me. When I stopped writing this story for a year or so, I came back with the intention of writing my own original piece. So I changed everything.

If I had the chance though, I would've been more organized. I should've written down an outline and the summary of what the story is about first instead of trying to figure out where I'm taking it. I need to practice on dialogue and imagery and making the story be consistent to give a good finale. Because to be truthful, this story didn't give a great impact.

So I'm going to apply that in my upcoming story I have for Sailor Moon and avoid making those mistakes. There is still a lot to learn, and I just need to be more vigilant in what I'm writing.

Thanks for reading!


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